Chapter Text
Days passed, and everything remained the same. Or at least, that’s what Kitty told herself.
Kitty went to class, studied in the library, grabbed coffee in between, and met up with friends. She still pretended she wasn’t overanalyzing every interaction she had with Minho. Still ignored the way her pulse jumped whenever his name popped up on her phone. Still acted like his teasing didn’t get under her skin more than it used to.
Minho was still the same—rolling his eyes when she said something ridiculous, throwing out his usual sarcastic remarks, yet like always, was the one taking care of her the most. Everything was normal.
Except it wasn’t.
It was the little things, the tiny shifts in their dynamic that made it impossible to pretend nothing had changed. Or maybe Kitty was just a girl falling in love. Maybe.
Minho texted her in the mornings now. "Rise and shine sleepyhead." And at night. "Go to sleep. Dream of me." The messages were simple, teasing—dumb, even. A normal person would roll their eyes reading them. Kitty, however, was apparently not normal, because she smiled every time.
Sometimes, he waited for her in the hallway outside of her class so they could go to the cafeteria together, hands tucked in his pockets. It wasn’t like they hadn’t had lunch together before, but now… now people whispered. "Why is Minho standing there?" "Probably waiting for Kitty." "Are they dating?"
Kitty pretended she didn’t hear them.
The most annoying one, though, was Minho bringing up what happened that night.
Well, he only did it once. But it was enough to make Kitty flustered every time she thought about it.
It had been a normal lunch—Kitty absentmindedly chewing on an apple, scrolling through her phone while Minho lounged beside her, waiting for his food.
“I haven’t really liked cafeteria food lately,” she mused, scrunching her nose. “Like, I’m craving something else.”
Minho glanced at her, eyes flickering with amusement before his lips curved into a smirk. “Well,” he drawled, “maybe your appetite has been craving my lips—”
Whack.
Kitty smacked his arm so fast he barely had time to react.
“Are you crazy?!” she whisper-screamed, face burning. She darted a quick glance around, relieved that nobody seemed to notice their conversation but she swore she could feel her soul leaving her body.
Minho grimaced, rubbing his arm. “Covey, violent much?” Then, as if he hadn’t just put her in a full-blown crisis, he added smugly, “As I recall, you did kiss me about twenty ti—”
Kitty lunged, slapping a hand over his mouth. Fully panicking.
They had planned lunch with Q, so he could show up at any second, and if he overheard anything, she would never hear the end of it. He was the one who had set them up on that K-BBQ night. And even though that night had turned out very well, she was not ready for him to know—or to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his plan had actually worked.
Minho stared at her, unimpressed, lips still pressed against her palm. His eyes gleamed with mischief as he said—muffled against her hand—“Wish you were blocking my mouth with something else right now.”
Kitty smacked him harder. That’ll teach him a lesson.
(It did because Minho had never spoken about it again since).
And even though they hadn’t talked about it beyond that night, Kitty would be lying if she said she didn’t think about it. Not just once. Not just occasionally. But every other night.
Because that night wasn't some reckless, heat-of-the-moment thing, not entirely. It had been slow. Certain. Something that had been waiting to happen for months.
She could still feel the warmth of his hands on her waist, the way he had kissed her like he was trying to make up for lost time. Like he didn’t want to stop. Like she was something he had wanted for longer than he was willing to admit.
And then, reality.
The actual reason Minho had come to her dorm—his stupid shirt—had arrived.
Kitty had taken it from the delivery guy, barely sparing it a glance before tossing it onto Minho’s lap where he sat sprawled on her couch. He had caught it with one hand, but his eyes had stayed on her, unreadable and sharp, like he was still reeling from memory of her wearing it.
“That drove me insane, you know,” he had murmured, fingers brushing the fabric.
Kitty had scoffed, arms crossing over her chest. “You’re such a loser.”
Minho hadn’t even defended himself. He had just reached for her instead, catching her wrist and pulling her forward, his lips chasing hers for another kiss—soft, chaste, over in a breath, but enough to make her dizzy all over again.
And then, just as easily, the moment had started slipping away.
Minho had muttered something about needing to get back to his dorm, but he hadn’t moved. His fingers lingered against her arm for just a second longer, his body still angled toward hers, like neither of them really wanted this night to end. Then he had said they should talk about this later. And she had agreed.
Because the night had been too perfect to be ruined with heavy conversations. Because no matter how much they tried to push it aside, there were too many complications.
Namely, Dae.
Kitty’s ex-boyfriend. Minho’s best friend. The one person they both knew would get caught in the crossfire of whatever this was. And neither of them could find a way through this without hurting him.
But at the same time—there was no going back.
So they hadn’t decided on anything. Hadn’t tried to define it.
But when she had walked him to the door, when she had expected the moment to be over, Minho had done something that threw her off completely.
He had leaned in, slow and deliberate, pressing one last kiss to the corner of her mouth. Softer this time. Shorter. But no less certain.
And then he had pulled away, there was a smile playing at his lips—easy, effortless, like he hadn’t just given her one of the best nights of her life.
She hoped she too just gave him one of the best nights of his life.
"Goodnight, Covey," he had murmured, stepping past her and out the door, leaving her standing there, heart pounding in her chest.
Now, days later, they still hadn’t talked about it. Hadn’t figured out what it meant. They still bickered, still fell into their usual rhythm like nothing had changed.
But it had.
And Kitty knew, no matter how much they pretended otherwise—Minho knew it too.
-
Kitty had just finished her Korean class, and her brain felt like it had been put through a blender. They were doing formal speech patterns. And now she had three pages of homework. Due next week. Send help.
As she walked through the hallway, still mentally sorting through the grammar rules she had definitely already forgotten, she spotted Q, Dae, and Minho gathered around one of the picnic tables outside. That was unusual. Sure, they were roommates, but seeing the three of them hanging out just the three of them? That was rare.
Curious, Kitty changed direction, already heading toward them before she even made a conscious decision to join.
As she approached, she caught Q mid-story, hands moving animatedly as he spoke. Dae was nodding along beside him, sipping what was probably an iced Americano, while Minho was sprawled on the bench in front of them, one arm draped over his face like he was shielding himself from the sun. Three paper cups sat on the table, most likely from the coffee truck.
“Hi, guys!” Kitty chirped, dropping her notebook onto the table with a thunk.
Dae turned first, eyes crinkling into a smile. “Hey, Kitty.”
“Someone looks suspiciously happy,” Q noted, eyeing her with curiosity.
Kitty’s expression immediately dropped into a deadpan. “Well, actually, you’re wrong.” Without hesitation, she tapped Minho’s legs, silently demanding space.
Minho didn’t move.
She narrowed her eyes and tried again, giving his shin a light shove. Still nothing.
“Can you move?” she muttered, now full-on smacking his leg.
Minho jerked upright like he had just been electrocuted, blinking at her with pure betrayal. “What is this, your new hobby? Hitting me?” He scooted over with an exaggerated huff, still rubbing his leg like she had committed a crime against him. Dae and Q snickered as Minho shot her a look before reluctantly scooting over.
“Thank you,” Kitty said sweetly (read: not sweetly at all) as she plopped down beside Minho. Leaning forward, she glanced at the group. “So… is anyone free tonight?”
Immediate silence. The kind that meant they all sensed danger. She could practically see the warning signs flashing in their heads.
Dae, to his credit, was the first to speak. “Eunice wants to check out this new café. We’re going either tonight or tomorrow.”
“I’m going out with Jin,” Q added, propping his chin on his hand.
That left only one option. Kitty turned to Minho, who exhaled like he didn’t agree to be a part of this conversation. “Depends.”
“What do you mean, depends?” Kitty asked, tone accusing.
“I have to know what devious thing you’re planning to do, Covey.” He turned to her, smirking. “Then, I’ll think about my answer.”
Kitty scoffed. Oh, now he was playing hard to get? The same Minho who once willingly helped her break into a locked storage room for a ‘heist’ last semester? Funny.
Without a word, she flipped open her notebook, revealing the absolute disaster that was her last Korean assignment. “Well, my devious plan is finishing my Korean homework before I actually fail this class.” She turned to Minho, giving him a pointed look. “I wouldn’t be asking for help—especially from you—unless I was really desperate.”
Minho leaned in, scanning the page with an exaggerated squint before letting out a low whistle. “Wow. That’s bad.”
“I know,” Kitty groaned. “So, can you help me?”
Instead of answering, Minho tilted his head, smirk growing as he studied her. Then, out of nowhere, he reached forward and cupped her chin between his fingers, tilting her face up slightly.
“Aww,” he cooed, voice dripping with amusement. “Is our Kitty gonna cry?”
Kitty’s brain short-circuited.
Because, first of all—what.
Second of all—his hand was on her face. And he was doing this in public. Worse, he was doing this in front of freaking Q and Dae.
Third of all—WHAT.
For a solid three seconds, all she could do was sit there, staring at him, willing herself not to react. Not to let the warmth creeping up her neck betray her. She blinked, swallowed, then looked away quickly.
Minho, as if just realizing what he had done, cleared his throat and immediately dropped his hand.
Kitty didn’t dare look at Q or Dae, but she felt their reactions. Q had gone completely silent, sipping his coffee in a way that was way too suspicious. He wasn’t saying anything, but his brain was clearly working overtime, connecting dots he had no business connecting.
Dae, on the other hand, just looked entertained. Too entertained.
Trying to salvage what was left of her dignity, Kitty forced herself to speak. “I am going to cry actually,” She grinned, hoping the conversation would move along.
Q leaned back, crossing his arms, amusement flickering in his expression. “Sorry, girl, but you know I can’t help you with that.” He took another slow sip of his drink, like he was holding back something dangerous, like he had just been handed the most interesting gossip of the year, and he was waiting for the right time to use it.
Kitty eyed him warily, but to her relief, he didn’t say anything—yet.
Before anyone could speak further, Dae turned to Minho, completely oblivious to the invisible crisis happening beside him. “You should help her,” he said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Then, without missing a beat, he added, “It’s not like you have anything else to do.”
Q almost choked on his drink.
Minho gasped in mock offense. “Wow. Thanks for the reminder,” he deadpanned, voice dripping with sarcasm. Then he turned to Kitty, skeptical. “But why are you doing homework on a Friday night ? ”
Kitty huffed, crossing her arms. “I have an appointment tomorrow, and Sunday is chore day. The last thing I need is three pages of stress on top of that.”
Minho hummed, pretending to consider. “So… just do your chores tonight and work on your homework Sunday.” His smirk grew. “Dae’s free on Sunday, right?” He turned to Dae.
Was he seriously trying to avoid this or just playing hard to get in front of Q and Dae? Either way, game on.
Leaning forward, she tilted her head slightly, a slow, smug smile creeping onto her face. “Well sure, my chores usually take a whole day to do. But if I have to finish them all tonight…” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I guess I wouldn’t mind some help. Minho, would you help me do my chores tonight?”
Q snorted. Dae chuckled, oblivious. “So either way, you guys are spending the night together.” Minho’s smirk disappeared so fast Kitty almost burst out laughing.
Q, catching the shift, leaned forward like a shark smelling blood in the water. His grin was practically criminal. “I think that’s great. Tonight, we all got plans. Me and Jin, Dae and Eunice, Minho and Kitty. No one’s left behind.”
Minho ran a hand through his hair before exhaling heavily, as if accepting his fate. “Fine. I’ll help with your homework.”
Kitty barely had time to celebrate before he added, “But no weird questions. I am not trained.”
“You’re literally a Korean speaker,” Q muttered, unimpressed.
Minho shot him a look. “Yeah, well, not a teacher.” He leaned back, arms crossed. “Covey asks the most random things. I’m just trying to spare myself some brain cells.”
Kitty narrowed her eyes but couldn’t even feel annoyed in the slightest. Instead, she found herself… weirdly excited. She shouldn’t be, but the idea of spending time alone with Minho again made her stomach flip just a little.
“Okay!” she announced, standing up and collecting her notebook. “See you then. Bye, guys!”
With a wave, she turned and walked off, very aware of the way Q was watching her go.
-
Kitty was boiling water when she heard a knock on the door. She turned the stove off, and on pure instinct, checked herself in the mirror—fingers smoothing down stray hairs, adjusting her sweater. Then she caught herself. It’s just Minho. Why was she acting like this?
Shaking off the ridiculousness of it all, she turned toward the door, pulling it open.
Minho stood there, effortlessly put together in a gray shirt that fit just right, black pants completing the look. His hair was tousled in that infuriatingly perfect way, and there was an ease in the way he stood, like he hadn’t just completely ruined her ability to function properly. Breathe, Kitty.
She had told herself not to make a big deal out of this. Act casual. No weird tension. No overthinking. So she simply turned around, walking back into her room. “Come in,” she called over her shoulder, leaving him at the doorway.
“Wait, wait—no,” he blurted.
Kitty stopped mid-step, brows furrowing as she turned back. “What?”
Minho exhaled, shifting slightly, as if debating whether this was actually a good idea. Then, with a resigned sigh, he stepped inside, pulled something from behind his back, and extended it toward her.
A bouquet of flowers.
Kitty blinked.
“The moment was kind of ruined, but whatever,” Minho muttered, rubbing the back of his neck like he wasn’t expecting it to go this way. “Hope you like it.”
Kitty stared at the bouquet in his hands—it was only a few stalks of daisies held together by a pink ribbon, simple but thoughtful, like he had actually put effort into picking it out. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to fight the ridiculous smile threatening to take over her face.
She couldn’t even navigate the way her heart feels anymore. Telling herself that her heart wasn’t racing for all the wrong reasons when Minho was around. That he was still just the guy who teased her relentlessly, not the one making her feel like this. It was to protect herself, she thought to herself. She couldn’t fall harder. She just couldn’t.
But standing here now, seeing him with flowers in his hand, she felt something shift inside her.
Her eyes flicked back to his. “Are you trying to make me fall in love?”
Minho smirked, tilting his head slightly. “That’s the end goal.”
Kitty felt her breath catch just slightly at the way he said it—so matter-of-fact, so completely Minho. He wasn’t even trying to be smooth; he was just stating it like it was obvious.
Before she could overthink it, she reached for the flowers and, in the same movement, closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around him in a hug.
Minho froze.
For a second, he didn’t react, just stood there, like his brain had completely shut down. Then, slowly, his hands found her waist, pulling her in closer as he hugged her back.
Kitty exhaled, pressing her face against his shoulder, fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his shirt. “I missed you,” she murmured. Right now, she wasn’t holding back.
Minho let out a small chuckle, the sound warm against her ear. “We met this afternoon, Covey.”
She could hear the smirk in his voice, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he lifted a hand, fingers sliding gently through her hair in slow, absentminded strokes. Kitty squeezed her eyes shut, the warmth of his touch making it dangerously easy to forget everything else.
Maybe she was falling.
And maybe, just maybe, she was okay with it.
"When did you even get these?" Kitty asked, pulling away from the hug, still holding the flowers like she was trying to process the fact that Minho had just given them to her.
Minho closed the door behind him before putting away his shoes. He looked almost… shy as he answered, “actually, when I was walking back with Dae and Q.”
Kitty turned around, definitely wasn’t expecting that answer. “What?” She half laughed.
“At first I just stopped by the stand, then Dae and Q actually got interested and Dae even bought a bouquet for Eunice. But Q definitely got suspicious when I started picking out flowers, I just said I bought it for our dorm.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I did put one stalk in my room.” He continued.
Kitty giggled, already imagining Q's knowing expression. "I bet he's putting puzzle pieces together right now—like that math meme."
Minho smirked, walking further into the room as she searched for something to put the flowers in. "Well, he basically asked for this."
She found a vase and carefully arranged the flowers before pouring out the tea she had meant to make earlier. She brought two cups over to the coffee table, where her textbook and notebook were already open, then settled onto the carpet, legs crossed, clicking her pen with a deep sigh.
Minho, meanwhile, draped himself over the couch. He grabbed one of her plushies, hugging it lazily. “Alright, let’s see the damage.”
“Okay,” Kitty pushed her notebook toward him. “I already attempted some but let me tell you I still have no freaking idea what I’m doing, I was just following the pattern in the textbook.” She warned.
Flipping through her work, Minho’s eyes started scanning the pages. His expression shifted almost instantly into horrified offense. "Why are you writing the Hangul in English?"
“I-I forget easily, okay??” Kitty winced. “I do write the Hangul! I just add romanization underneath so I can remember how to say it properly.” She pointed out.
Minho exhaled, giving her the most judgmental side-eye. Which she returned with an innocent grin. “I’m trying.”
He sighed, then continued reading. He then actually started correcting her answers and teaching her the right pronunciation, his voice slipping into something softer, more patient. “You don’t pronounce ‘ae’ like separate ‘a’ and ‘e’. It's just ae.” He pointed to a word on her page. “Also the same rule with ‘eo’, it's not ‘ee o’, it's just like when you say, ‘aw’” he continued.
Kitty scribbled in her textbook as he spoke—since her notebook was being held by Minho—her brows furrowed in concentration. Minho flipped through more pages, eyes scanning her work.
"This one’s wrong," he pointed out, tapping a sentence. "You’re supposed to use ‘-reul,’ not ‘-ga.’ Hanbin likes cats. It’s Hanbin-i goyangi- reul johahaeyo, not goyangi- ga johahaeyo."
Kitty leaned over to check, then turned to him with wide eyes. "Why?"
"I don’t know." Minho answered immediately, grinning. Kitty rolled her eyes. “Wow. So helpful, Minho.”
“I really don’t know, it just sounds right.” He muttered.
"But isn’t ‘-ga’ used for something ending in a vowel? Like Minho-ga?" She gasped, amazed at herself for even remembering that rule.
Minho pondered, plopping down from the couch to sit on the carpet beside her. He flipped through her textbook, determined to find the explanation. When he did, he slid it over.
"Here," he pointed. "The words ‘-ga’ or ‘-i’ mark the subject of a sentence, while ‘-reul’ or ‘-eul’ mark the object . So in that sentence, Hanbin is the subject, and cat is the object. Hanbin likes cats. Hanbin-i goyangi-reul joahaeyo."
Kitty nodded along, then an idea popped into her head. She bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile. "What about Minho?"
Minho’s eyes flicked toward her, eyebrows raising slightly. "Huh?"
Kitty barely held in her laughter as she slowly repeated, "Hanbin likes cats. Hanbin-i goyangi-reul johahaeyo. Meanwhile…" She turned to him, all wide-eyed innocence. "Minho-ga Kitty-reul johahaeyo. Is that correct?"
Minho blinked.
Then he smiled.
Then he chuckled, soft and low, his gaze settling on her with so much warmth it made her stomach flip.
What she didn’t expect was for him to lean in, fingers brushing under her chin, tilting it up slightly as he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in the softest, sweetest kiss. It was gentle, unhurried—so brief yet so much. And just when she thought she could sink into it, it was over, leaving her breathless.
When he pulled back, his face stayed close, his lips barely inches from hers. His eyes flickering between her eyes and lips, something heavy lingering between them, “Mm, it’s correct.”
Whether he was talking about the grammar or the meaning of what she’d just said—she wasn’t about to guess.
Kitty turned back to her book, fanning her face absentmindedly. Is it possible to feel drunk without consuming any alcohol? Because, honestly, she was starting to wonder. But for now, she needed to get her mind back on her Korean homework.
She took a slow sip of her tea, willing herself to focus. “Okay. Continue,” she muttered, mostly to herself.
Minho snickered beside her. “Focus, Covey.”
She shot him a look, but he had already settled back into the couch, lazily scrolling on his phone while hugging the plush toy he’d stolen earlier. “You should retry those questions,” he said, not even looking up. “Make sure your subject particles are right. I’ll check them when you’re done.”
Kitty sighed but did as he said, rechecking her answers with her newly acquired knowledge, her pen scratching lightly against the paper. After a few minutes, she was done. She then plopped her notebook directly onto Minho’s stomach with the intention of annoying him. But he barely reacted, only glanced at her then started checking her answer.
“Great job, Covey.” He mused. “Now continue to your next homework.”
“That’s the problem, I basically don’t understand it. Like at all.” Kitty groaned. “Mr. Yoo was teaching conjugation earlier and I swear my brain turned into a mush.”
“It’s literally so easy,” Minho scoffed. He then propped himself up slightly, “Look, in English, verbs change completely depending on whether you’re talking about the past, present, or future. But in Korean, you just add a specific ending to the word. No need to memorize a bajillion different forms.”
As he spoke, he shifted again, this time lying face-down on the couch, plush toy squished between his arms. His head now level with hers, his face only inches away.
Kitty tried to focus. She really did. But suddenly, all she could notice was the faint scent of mint, the warmth of him being so close, and—the most distracting part—his collarbone peeking out from his slightly loose shirt, right there in her direct line of vision.
Was it hot in here? It felt hot in here.
“…only need to add that. Got it?”
Kitty snapped out of it just in time to see Minho turn his head toward her, his face much closer than she expected. She inhaled sharply, caught completely off guard.
Minho’s gaze flickered over her expression, and then—of course—he smirked. “See?” His voice was laced with amusement. “This is why Dae should’ve been the one teaching you Korean. With me, you just end up getting distracted.”
Kitty hated two things. One , that he was right. And two, that he knew he was right. But she refused to give him any satisfaction. “I am not distracted.” She took back her book from him.
Kitty tapped her pen against her notebook, staring at the sentence she had just written. “Okay,” she muttered, more to herself than Minho. “If joahaeyo is the present tense of ‘to like,’ then the past tense should be…” She trailed off, flipping through her textbook.
“Joahaesseoyo?” She turned to Minho, eyes hopeful.
Minho lifted an eyebrow. “Look at you,” he mused, nodding approvingly. “That was actually right.”
Kitty gasped. “Wait—really?!” Minho only hummed in agreement.
A few minutes passed in focused silence—well, Kitty was focused, Minho was just comfortably lying there, tossing her plushy in the air. Then, after a long sigh, she leaned back against the couch, rubbing her temples. “Okay, this is too much. I need a break.”
Minho, still tossing the plushie, barely looked at her. “Go have a break. You deserve it.”
Kitty took a sip of her tea, sighing. “Wish there was an easier way to learn this.”
Minho didn’t respond at first. But then, he suddenly perked up, grabbing his phone. Wait, I just remembered something. There’s this filter that tests your korean. You should try it.”
Kitty eyed him suspiciously. “Didn’t you said I deserve a break?”
“It’s easy, just try it.” Before she could argue, he slid off the couch, plopping down beside her on the carpet. He propped his phone up with one hand, angling it toward her.
With a sigh, she obeyed, staring at the screen. A pop-up appeared, flashing a random verb and a time limit to choose the correct conjugation. Already feeling defeated, she tilted her head to answer. Only to be wrong.
“Slow down, Covey,” Minho scolded. “Read the question.”
Fine. She straightened her back, gazing at the phone like it was war. The second verb popped up. She hesitated, willed herself to actually read the whole sentence before choosing an answer. It was right.
“HA!” Kitty cheered, shoving Minho’s arm in excitement. Minho recoiled slightly, shooting her a look like he couldn’t believe this new hobby of hers which was physically attacking him. But he smiled anyway. “Great job, Covey.”
The game continued, Kitty getting most of them right but still suffering Minho’s teasing every time she made a particularly awful guess. They tried a bunch of different filters after that—matching idioms, guessing dialects, even a ridiculous one that made them say tongue twisters. Kitty failed miserably at that one, and Minho would not stop laughing.
Then, just as Kitty was about to snatch the phone away in revenge, another filter popped up.
“Pose according to the instructions,” Minho read the screen.
Kitty’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, let’s do that one!” She tapped his shoulder excitedly.
Minho tilted the phone toward her. “Go ahead.”
“No, let’s do it together.” Before he could protest, she snatched the phone from his hand, propping it up against a cup on the coffee table. Now, both of them were in the frame.
The first prompt flashed onto the screen. Smile.
Kitty grinned, throwing up a peace sign, while Minho barely lifted the corners of his lips, looking cool with literally zero effort.
The next prompt appeared: Wink.
Kitty put her face between her hands, winking cutely, while Minho winked effortlessly, so smoothly that it was annoying.
The third prompt: Heart.
“What is this, the poses are all cute.” Minho grumbled, but did a finger heart anyway. Kitty made half a heart with her left hand to her cheek.
Final prompt: Kiss.
Kitty, acting entirely on instinct, turned to Minho and pressed a quick, feather-light kiss to his cheek.
It was instinctive, so natural that it didn’t hit her right away—
Until she pulled back and found Minho completely frozen. His lips were still pursed, as if it was his last pose. But he still hadn’t moved.
Kitty blinked at him. Then back at the phone, realization settling in. Then—
“Oh.” She blinked, looking at the screen again. “Wait… was I just supposed to do the little smooching face?”
Minho broke into the softest laugh. Not his usual smug one, not the teasing one he used when he was making fun of her, just warm, breathless laughter, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.
Kitty groaned, covering her face with her hands. Regretting every life choice. Maybe she should move to another country. Change her name. Start fresh. Because what the actual hell just happened.
Minho was still grinning when he finally moved, shifting slightly to sit up straighter. “That was cute.”
She exhaled sharply, uncovering her face just enough to glare at him. “Forget that happened. Delete the picture.”
“No.” Minho grabbed his phone immediately, holding it away from her reach.
Kitty lunged for it, but he dodged effortlessly, climbing back onto the sofa behind her with an infuriating giggle. She could not deal with him right now. Before she could try again, her phone buzzed from where it was charging on the kitchen counter. She sighed, abandoning the fight to grab it. When she glanced at the screen—Dae.
“Oh?” she said, eyebrows raising. That was unusual. She sat beside him on the couch, unlocking her phone.
Daeheon
How’s it going? Is Minho being good?
Kitty chuckled to herself. Even Dae was asking if Minho was giving her a hard time. That was telling. Her chuckle made Minho glance over, eyes flickering to her phone.
“Who’s that?”
“Dae,” she answered, thumbs already typing a response.
“Dae?” He imitated. “What did he say?”
Kitty smirked. “He was worried you’d give me such a hard time.”
Minho let out a small huff, leaning in slightly, watching the screen over her shoulder. “He still checks in on you from time to time?”
Kitty felt a sudden rush of smugness. She tilted her head at him, eyes playful. “Yes. Why?”
Minho shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “That means he’s a good friend.”
Kitty squinted at him, amused. Was he pretending not to care? The way he had subtly straightened up, the casual stretch, the way his fingers drummed against his knee just a little too fast—yeah, he cared .
“Mmhmm,” she hummed, watching him carefully. Minho ignored her look, casually stretching as if this conversation was already over.
“Yeah, he is,” Kitty admitted, absentmindedly tapping her phone screen.
Then, after a pause, she glanced at Minho again, suddenly thoughtful. “…Do you think he’d be upset if he found out about… us ?”
The question hung in the air, shifting the atmosphere slightly. The warmth from before, the teasing, the laughter, dimmed just a little. Minho’s expression changed, like he was considering something carefully, his face unreadable. He exhaled slowly, tapping his fingers lightly against his knee in thought.
“Honestly?” His voice was softer now as he looked at her, his usual playfulness momentarily replaced with something more real. “I don’t know.”
It was silent for another minute. The only sound was from the fridge humming faintly in the background.
Kitty traced patterns on her phone screen, exhaling. “We should talk to him,” she murmured, barely above a whisper.
Minho nodded, looking as if he was thinking the best moment to do that. “Sooner the better.”
Sinking a little further into the couch, Kitty sighed. “I mean… he has Eunice now. If he’s still upset, wouldn’t that be kinda selfish?” Minho went silent for a moment. The corner of his mouth twitched in something between a sarcastic smile and a sigh before he finally said,
“He’d probably just be upset with me.”
Kitty frowned, glancing at him. “I really hope he doesn’t.”
He chuckled, shaking his head like he wasn’t particularly worried about it. Then he turned to her, studying her face in that quiet way that made her stomach flutter. “Yeah, me too. But it’s probably gonna be a pretty difficult conversation.”
Hugging a pillow to her chest, Kitty’s lips formed a small pout. “Wish this wasn’t so complicated.”
Hearing that, Minho’s eyes softened. He glanced at her for a second, his expression unreadable, before offering a small, almost gentle smile. “It’s fine,” he said. But he didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to.
Because the way he said it—the way he looked at her, like none of this mattered, like she was worth whatever happened next—told her everything.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the pillow.
Another beat of silence passed between them before Minho tilted his head slightly, studying her expression. “It’s not like I’ve asked you to be my girlfriend or anything…”
He said it lightly, almost too casually. But there was something beneath the words, something she almost missed. A quiet sincerity, like he wasn’t just making a passing comment. Like maybe, just maybe, he was waiting to see how she’d react.
Which succeeded. Kitty’s face went red instantly. Her heart thumped so hard she was sure Minho could hear it. She suddenly forgot how to sit like a normal human being, her body tensing up as heat crept from her neck to her ears.
And before she could stop herself, she blurted, “What’s the difference anyway?”
Minho’s eyebrows lifted. “What do you mean, what’s the difference?” His lips curled, teasing.
Kitty immediately regretted opening her mouth. Like, she felt actual physical pain from how badly she wanted to take it back.
Abort.
Abort.
Abort.
“I mean—” She groaned, practically combusting, looking anywhere but at him. “Well… we already do what boyfriends and girlfriends do.”
What am I saying?? Kitty panicked. Can someone just shut my mouth?
Kitty wanted to exit her own body. Just step out of it, walk away, and never return.
Minho, fully entertained now, leaned in slightly, tilting his head. “Yeah?” His voice was deep, laced with amusement. “And what’s that?”
Kitty groaned louder, pulling a pillow into her lap as if it would protect her from the embarrassment crawling under her skin. “I don’t know, Minho, what do you think?”
Minho shrugged, all smug and relaxed, clearly enjoying every agonizing second of this. “I don’t know, Covey, what is it?”
He then leaned in, his face right in front of her. “What, Covey? Was it the texting? Hm?” He paused, “the flowers? The lunch dates?”
Annoyed, she sighed before standing on her knees, towering over him. “You’re not gonna let me live, won’t you?”
He gazed at her, eyes lidded. He barely whispered an answer before Kitty dropped herself on him, her hands on top of his shoulder, pulling him into another kiss. Minho smiled in satisfaction before instinctively his hands found her waist, pulling her closer.
It wasn’t hesitant. It wasn’t playful.
It was deliberate.
His lips moved against hers, slow but sure, like he knew exactly how to make her melt. Kitty did melt, just a little. Minho kissed like he enjoyed it—like he was savoring every second, teasing her with every slight tilt of his head, every slow, deliberate movement of his mouth. It made her chest tighten, heat curling in her stomach.
She felt dizzy from it, like her thoughts weren’t keeping up with her body. Her fingers curled tighter into the fabric of his shirt, as if holding on to something solid would stop her from completely falling.
But then she felt like she needed more, so without thinking, she shifted forward, crawling into his lap, straddling him. He wanted to know what boyfriends and girlfriends do? Well he got his answer.
Minho made a quiet, surprised sound against her lips, hands flexing against her waist, but he didn’t stop her. If anything, the moment she settled against him, he exhaled a quiet curse under his breath, fingers tightening around her like he was trying not to react too much.
Kitty’s heart was pounding , but now that she was here, she wasn’t backing down.
She cupped his face with one hand, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. Minho responded immediately . One hand sliding up her back, the other slipping under the hem of her sweater, fingers grazing her skin.
The second his hand met her bare skin, everything changed. A sharp inhale caught in her throat, her entire body going taut as a wave of heat spread through her. She felt lightheaded, warmth pooling low in her stomach. Her hand now moved to the back of his head, pulling herself even closer.
Minho let out a quiet groan, fingers rubbing against her waist, his touch felt firmer now—like he liked how she reacted, like he wanted to see if he could pull more of it from her. At that, Kitty made a small sound, between a sigh and a whimper, and she could feel the way Minho smirked against her lips, like he heard it and was very pleased with himself .
He wanted to play? She could totally do it.
Their lips were apart to take a breather, but then Kitty kissed him again, before biting his lower lip, just lightly.
Minho inhaled sharply. He chuckled, and when Kitty let go of his lip she whispered, “Naughty Covey,”
The nickname made her combust. His grip on her tightened, and suddenly, he was taking control—pressing her even closer, kissing her deeper, like he needed her. Like she had started this, but he was finishing it. There was heat between them, burning Kitty from the inside out, slow and steady.
Then reluctantly, Minho pulled away, breathing hard. And Kitty almost, almost whined. Her breathing was unsteady, her heart pounding, and when she opened her eyes—
She could see that his shirt was crinkled, scrunched in her fists like she had been holding onto him for dear life (which, okay, she had). His lips were kiss-swollen and glistening, his breathing uneven, his pupils blown out, gaze still heavy-lidded as he looked at her.
And his hair. God, his hair, it was so disheveled, strands falling over his forehead in that perfectly tousled way, like he had just been thoroughly kissed senseless.
Which, okay. He had been. By her.
Kitty swallowed hard, something warm curling in her stomach.
It wasn’t fair. It should be illegal to look this dreamy, this effortlessly hot— especially after she had just gotten her soul kissed out of her. Did she even look half as good? Or did she just look like a mess?
She swallowed, trying to gather a single coherent thought, but her mind was still floating somewhere between the feel of his hands, the warmth of his breath, and the fact that she.. had just climbed into his lap?
Hello? Earth to Kitty? Have some decorum please?
Minho grinned, eyes dark, filled with something dangerously close to admiration. “So,” his voice was hoarse. “That’s what boyfriends and girlfriends do?”
Kitty, despite the warmth still burning in her cheeks, smirked back. She held up two fingers, pinching them slightly. "Sneak peek."
Minho let out a soft chuckle, fingers still tracing slow circles against her waist. And that was what made Kitty realize her very position.
Her breath hitched. Oh my god. I’m on his lap.
“Um, I—”
“Covey—”
They both stopped. Minho’s voice was lower, steadier. Kitty hesitated before gesturing for him to talk first.
Minho exhaled through his nose, studying her. He looked unfairly composed—like the way she just kissed him breathless wasn’t currently wrecking his mind. His voice was steady when he finally spoke.
“You’re not thinking this is just us messing around, right?”
Kitty blinked. Messing around?
Her fingers twitched against his shoulder. I had a full-blown confession. Does he really think I’d just—
“No,” she answered immediately. She swallowed and tried again, softer this time. “No, I don’t.”
Minho’s gaze softened, but he didn’t look fully satisfied. Kitty hesitated. She knew what he was really asking—he wanted more than just the heat between them, more than just stolen moments. And god, so did she.
She bit her lip, exhaling. “I just think… we should talk to Dae first.”
Minho was silent for a beat. Then, with a slow, knowing nod, he said, “Okay.”
She shifted again lightly, ready to scramble off his lap. But instead of letting her go, Minho’s grip on her waist tightened slightly.
“Minho!” Kitty huffed, slapping his chest.
He groaned dramatically, whining about ‘I don't like your new hobby of hitting me’ and Kitty took the opportunity to go away, ignoring the way her skin still buzzed where he had touched her. She plopped back onto her position on the carpet, grabbing her abandoned homework like it was some sort of lifeline.
She was not going to get distracted again.
-
It was nearing midnight, Minho had already gone back to his dorm (“Sleep well, Covey. Dream of me”) (oh he bet she will) when she received a text from Q.
Quincy
KITTY!!!!!!!
She raised an eyebrow, before typing a reply.
Kitty Song-Covey
What?
Quincy
YOU
i need to talk to you
Kitty Song-Covey
About what?
Quincy
Life
I’m meeting you tomorrow
Its emergency
Kitty Song-Covey
What??
No reply.
Kitty frowned, staring at the chat for a moment before tossing her phone aside. Whatever.
-
Kitty squinted at the blaring red numbers on her alarm clock. 8:04 AM. On a Saturday.
The knocking at her door came again, more insistent this time.
She groaned, dragging herself out of bed and stumbling to the door. When she opened it, Q stood there, vibrating with energy—not just from his morning jog (she guessed it from the way his skin glistened) but from something else entirely.
Kitty yawned mid-sentence. “Q, I have an appointment at eleven. Whatever this is—”
But instead of acknowledging her very reasonable warning, Q stepped past her with wild, frantic eyes. Like a man on a mission.
Kitty blinked at the empty space where he had been standing. “Uh… come in, I guess?”
Then, he made a sound between a gasp and a short-circuited system reboot. His hand flew to his mouth dramatically, as if he just noticed something incriminating. Kitty followed him inside after closing the door, her lagged brain trying to understand whatever her friend is doing right now.
“What is it?” She asked. But Q didn’t say anything. His gaze flickered wildly between her and whatever he was staring at. Kitty turned her head, trying to follow his line of sight. Was it her scattered book? The pile of laundry she had yet to fold?
Q stroked his mouth as if he just confirmed something. “Q what is it?” Kitty asked, standing beside him.
He exhaled hard, then turned to her, eyes serious, “Kitty, please sit before my brain actually explodes.”
Kitty narrowed her eyes. “...Okay?” She moved slowly, sitting on the couch.
Q took a moment, inhaling deeply. Then, finally, he spoke.
“I really thought I was being delusional.”
Kitty blinked, still trying to understand what was happening.
He exhaled again, “so last night, Minho came back from meeting you, and I noted very clearly that his lips were swollen, and his hair was messy, like tousled in such unnatural way—I know,” He gave her a look, like daring her to argue, “I know how he styles his hair. I’m his roommate.”
Kitty’s stomach did a weird little flip. Oh.
Kitty only gave him a tight smile before saying, “M-maybe he fell on the way back?”
Q’s face deadpanned. Like he could not believe whatever Kitty just said was serious. She then leaned back on the couch, avoiding his eyes.
Then, Q let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Minho would whine the hell out of himself if he fell.” He threw a hand in the air, mimicking Minho’s dramatic antics. Kitty pressed her lips together. …Okay, that was actually true.
“Guess what? He didn’t say anything at all, he just grabbed a bottle of water and went back to his room.” Q paced back and forth, meanwhile Kitty stayed completely still, like she was being interrogated.
“I wanted to ask him, you know, because you don’t just go back with lips swollen like that unless you got stung or something? I had theories, but I needed some more convincing. But then!” He circled the room like a detective examining a crime scene, before stopping in front of the vase of fresh daisies she just put last night.
Kitty almost felt like she was unable to breathe.
“These.” Q stated, pointing to the flowers like they were Exhibit A. “Minho bought these last night.”
Kitty only opened her mouth when Q chimed, “Don’t tell this wasn’t from him, Kitty. Don’t lie.”
He walked back in front of Kitty, finished with his presentation. Kitty opened her mouth. Closed it.
Q crossed his arms, victorious. “I knew it. ”
Kitty groaned, throwing herself back against the couch. “Oh my god.”
“SO IT’S TRUE??” Q actually screamed, despite having already said he knew it. Kitty sighed, already feeling tired. Why was she always being interrogated by Q on Saturday mornings?
Q plopped down next to her. “I should’ve dragged Minho here and busted you two together.” He shook his head, like he still couldn’t believe it. “I wasn’t fully convinced last night to bust him directly, but those flowers? That sealed it.”
He then turned to Kitty, “So when did this happen? I knew something was going on between you two lately. Wait—was it because of that K-BBQ Night?”
“Shut up!” Kitty hissed, grabbing the pillow again to whack him with. She reminded herself she had not dealt with Q about that.
Q yelped, ducking with a laugh. “Oh my god, it was K-BBQ Night, wasn’t it?”
Kitty groaned, clutching the pillow to her chest like a shield. She had not signed up for this conversation.
Still grinning, Q shook his head in disbelief. “So… you two are dating now?”
Kitty’s face burned. “We’re not—” She stopped herself, because she didn’t actually know how to finish that sentence.
Q raised an eyebrow. “Not what?”
Kitty fell silent, trying to sort through her thoughts. Then, with more confidence than she actually felt, she met Q’s gaze and said, “We’re not anything right now.”
He gave her an unimpressed look. “He gave you flowers and you two made ou—” He paused at Kitty’s death glare and cleaned his throat. “K-kissed..” He corrected, teasing.
Kitty pressed her lips together, her face practically burning now. The memory of last night flashed through her mind, and—
Nope. Nope nope nope.
“Kissed so hard you made his lips swell.” Q said the last part fast so she wouldn’t have time to cut him off.
(Another long groan escaped her lips as she buried her face into the pillow.)
Q chuckled. “But you’re not anything? Damn… should I talk to Minho about this?”
Kitty pouted, curling up further on the couch. “We talked about it,” she muttered, voice muffled by the pillow. “I said we need to talk to Dae first.”
At that, Q’s playful energy settled. He nodded slowly, taking in her words. But for once, he didn’t immediately comment. But after a few moments, he gave her a small, understanding smile. “Yeah… okay. That makes sense.”
Kitty blinked, surprised by the sudden shift.
Q leaned back, glancing at the daisies again before shooting her a knowing look. “Still, give me the deets.”
Now, Kitty straight up launched the pillow at his face.
-
The days passed in a blur, but Kitty felt every moment acutely.
She had expected Q to bust Minho the second he stepped back into their dorm, but surprisingly, he held onto his secret—for a few days, at least. It wasn’t until Minho accompanied her to the library that Q finally let it slip.
"You were gone for a while. Where were you?" Q had asked, tone laced with suspicion.
Minho, casually sipping from his water bottle, answered without thinking, " With Covey. She needed something from the library."
Q barely missed a beat. "You guys didn’t make out behind the bookshelves, right?"
Minho froze, mid-sip. And that was all the confirmation Q needed.
"At least try to deny it??" Q had muttered, gleeful, while Minho choked on his water and spluttered something unintelligible.
Kitty only heard about it afterward— from Minho himself, when he all but dragged her into a quiet hallway, looking way too rattled for someone who claimed to be unbothered by anything. Kitty had bitten her lip to keep from laughing, but deep down, she swore she was definitely going to deal with Q. One day.
And Q, of course, had made it his personal mission to never let either of them live in peace.
"Kitty~" he would sing whenever he caught her stealing a glance in Minho’s direction. Or worse, he would give Minho a look—the kind that made Minho scowl and throw something harmless (a balled-up napkin, a pen, once even a sugar packet) at Q’s face.
But the teasing was one thing. The real problem sat in the back of Kitty’s mind, a quiet, gnawing guilt she hadn’t figured out how to deal with.
They still hadn’t talked to Dae.
She had meant to. Really. But every time she thought about it, something got in the way—an assignment, an event, an excuse (though she told herself it wasn’t). It was getting harder to ignore. The weight of it settled heavier on her shoulders with every passing day.
And soon, she knew, she wouldn’t be able to avoid it much longer.