Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

enemy #1: did you leave the airport already? 

kitty: are you actually texting me?

kitty: i didn’t even think you had my number??

kitty: and to answer your question (which i’m certainly not obliged to but will do so because i am a good person), i have a connecting flight going to portland so i just went to another terminal after we landed.

enemy #1: do you always multiple text

kitty: do you always lack punctuation in your texts?

enemy #1: so that’s a yes 

kitty: i guess so. did you need something? i’m still at the airport, just in a different direction…

enemy #1: no, no, i didn’t see you after we collected our luggage

kitty: okay. 

kitty: this is weird, we’ve never texted before… or had a proper conversation before… 

enemy #1: i suppose so, but i guess we have time to remedy that now

enemy #1: have a good summer, kitty ❤️🔥

kitty: oh. yeah, yes, you too, minho :] 

kitty: you’ve been trying to type something for five minutes now and it’s amusing because i have nothing to entertain myself with while waiting for this flight

kitty: just say whatever you want to say!! 

enemy #1: okay

enemy #1: hey, covey? i’m sorry for springing that on you

kitty: it’s okay, really. have a good summer, minho, xo

💌

enemy #1: [ image ]

kitty: is this…

kitty: is this meant for me?

enemy #1: yeah, i attended a gala with my mum today

kitty: and you’re sending me this why? 

enemy #1: it’s because i know you want this face so you stole my anti-ageing serum, but stealing is bad and you shouldn’t make a habit of it 

kitty: I DO NOT STEAL? 

kitty: the words “make a habit of it” is preposterous, i am a model citizen of two nations! 

enemy #1: so do you want to tell me what happened to my buckwheat hand cream, then? 

kitty: i have no idea what you’re talking about 

enemy #1: sure you don’t

enemy #1: you do have a habit of stealing though, covey

kitty: stealing what?

kitty: wait, are you still at the gala?

enemy #1: well, you kind of stole my heart, too 

enemy #1: yeah

kitty: …

kitty: why are you texting me if you’re at a famous people place with famous people who you can talk to and interact with and take pictures with and make friends who would purchase the items you use instead of stealing them from your bathroom? 

enemy #1: so, you did steal them 🤨

kitty: I NEVER SAID THAT!!

enemy #1: of course 

enemy #1: oh, and i’d rather speak to you than them 

enemy #1: you’re better than all of them combined 

kitty: i’m better than famous people? are you feeling okay? 

kitty: am i the only one you can text right now? 

enemy #1: no, but you are the only one i want to text right now 

kitty: oh.

kitty: i gotta go!! my dad’s calling me to help make these salted caramel cupcakes for peter and LJ! they’re coming home to visit so super super busy ahahaha bye ✌️ 

enemy #1: alright, happy baking, covey ❤️🔥

💌

kitty: hey

enemy #1 (⁉️): you’re texting me first 

enemy #1 (⁉️): it’s 1 in the morning, why are you awake?

kitty: wanted to talk 

kitty: isn’t that… kind of becoming our thing? 

enemy #1 (⁉️): we have a thing? 

kitty: well, before this week, you and i have never texted once, and since we’ve gone on vacation, you are the person i speak to most often, therefore, yes, we have developed some sort of texting thing

enemy #1 (⁉️): and no punctuation, someone’s wheels are turning to the point of smoke streaming out their ears

kitty: stop omg 

kitty: it’s just that. peter proposed to LJ tonight. he took her to the track field where she kissed him for the first time and proposed to her right there

kitty: i got them together, y’know? they were my first successful match — LJ is lara-jean, my second oldest sister, and peter is peter kavinsky, her boyfriend of around… five years? six years? time is blurry to me

enemy #1 (⁉️): congratulations to them

enemy #1 (⁉️): why do you sound so unhappy 

kitty: peter is LJ’s first love, ever. she had crushes before (there’s this whole thing with letters that i’ll have to tell you someday, remind me), but peter was her first love, and they’re going to get married 

kitty: i guess i’m just… sad that dae and i didn’t work out like that 

enemy #1 (⁉️): so you were clearly lying when you said you were okay with everything 

kitty: i don’t love him anymore, you’re not supposed to feel butterflies for someone else when you’re in love with a person

enemy #1 (⁉️): you felt butterflies for someone else?

kitty: it wasn’t you… i’m sorry 

enemy #1 (⁉️): it’s fine, i never expected it to be me, we didn’t really communicate well, did we? 

kitty: i guess so… but the second person i felt butterflies for us never going to look at me like that. they’re already in a relationship and i don’t want to be a homewrecker (disclaimer)

enemy #1 (⁉️): that’s good to know

kitty: i’m sorry for talking mindlessly at 1 a.m. 

enemy #1 (⁉️): no, don’t be

enemy #1 (⁉️): i like that i’m the person you’re talking to mindlessly at 1 a.m 

kitty: oh 

kitty: i… didn’t feel like speaking to anyone else 

enemy #1 (⁉️): that’s okay, you can message me whenever and i’ll make sure to respond immediately or after a minute or two if i’m busy 

kitty: you don’t have to do that for me

enemy #1 (⁉️): ah, but covey, i think i’d do anything for you if you wanted me to 

kitty: you’re scaring me 

kitty: aha… you’re… you meant it? when you said you fell in love with me? 

enemy #1 (⁉️): i wouldn’t lie about something like that 

kitty: i know… i don’t want you to get hurt 

enemy #1 (⁉️): it’s okay, you can break my heart, covey—just as long as you know how to mend it ❤️🩹

kitty: good night, minho, xo

enemy #1 (⁉️): good night, kitty 

💌

enemy #1 (❓): do you think the new barbie movie is going to be nice 

kitty: i, personally, think it has the potential to be the best piece of cinema this world has ever witnessed

enemy #1 (❓): and if i said i had tickets to the premier because my mum is friends with ryan gosling… would you want to go?

kitty: in los angeles? i’d like to go yeah, but it’s just impossible 

enemy #1 (❓): right, i’m sorry 

kitty: don’t be! what have you been up to? 

enemy #1 (❓): hanging out, chilling, nothing much, really. this is been a very boring week 

kitty: and it’s the first week, how will you ever survive the rest of it? 

enemy #1 (❓): no idea. hey, since i’m so bored, why don’t you tell me the origins of your matchmaking shenanigans?

kitty: i’m entertainment for you? 

enemy #1 (❓): you called me entertainment once upon a time 

kitty: it was last week???? 

enemy #1 (❓): time is irrelevant 

kitty: fine, fine! so, LJ, my sister, had written love letters of sorts (intense ones) to all the boys she’d ever had a crush on but never had the courage to tell (all of them, basically) and when my older sister (margot) went away to college to scotland, i realized things would be sad around here, so i sent out her letters (they all had addresses on them) and the rest is history

enemy #1 (❓): and now she’s engaged 

kitty: exactly!! she has so much to be thankful to me for for the rest of her life actually 

enemy #1 (❓): interesting that matchmaking is a euphemism for meddling

kitty: that’s mean and rude 

enemy #1 (❓): but it is the truth

kitty: i also got my dad and tri together (step-mom) 

enemy #1 (❓): so you have a successful business 

kitty: yet i failed for myself 

enemy #1 (❓): not really, give yourself time

kitty: thanks, minho 

enemy #1 (❓): anytime, covey ❤️🔥

💌

kitty: what ice cream do you like? 

enemy #1 (❓): mint-chocolate and why?

kitty: because i’m at a parlor and my sister said i could get two scoops, obviously 

enemy #1 (❓): so you’re getting my favourite? 

kitty: and mine too

enemy #1 (❓): what is yours

kitty: not telling 🤐

enemy #1 (❓): not fair 

kitty: fine, fine, i’m a fan of chocolate, very typical and boring, unfortunately

enemy #1 (❓): do you prefer anything? 

kitty: cookies and brownies always do the trick 

enemy #1 (❓): junk, essentially 

kitty: don’t go all fitness guru on me 

enemy #1 (❓): i’m not, i’m just saying those are unhealthy

kitty: which is why i indulge in them? duh?

kitty: mint-chocolate isn’t too bad

enemy #1 (❓): reason why it’s my favorite 

kitty: i also think you aren’t so bad 

enemy #1 (❓): if you say things like that, i might think you actually love me or something, covey 

kitty: no i don’t 

kitty: not yet, at least 

💌

kitty: it’s been a few hours since we texted, are you dead? you didn’t reply 

minho 😖 : i’m not dead, although it did feel like i ascended to heaven

kitty: lame 

minho 😖 : that means i have a chance?

kitty: who said you didn’t have a chance?

kitty: good night, minho, xo 🤗

💌

minho 😖 : what’s a city you want to travel to?

kitty: barcelona, or spain as a country in general 

minho 😖 : may i ask why? 

kitty: i just feel like it would be memorable. where have you been/do you want to go? 

minho 😖 : i really liked barcelona

minho 😖 : i think paris? cliché as it may be 

kitty: that’s romantic 

minho 😖 : would you go to paris with me? 

kitty: no

kitty: but, ask me in a few years again, please 

💌

kitty: three weeks of summer have gone by and i feel like i’m going nothing 

kitty: floating around like a speck of dust, enjoying family time 

kitty: you must be busy

kitty: oooh, you’re in… paris… with… someone

kitty: i’m so sorry for disturbing you, please ignore these 

💌

minho 😖 : i am so sorry!! my mum wanted to go to her friend’s fashion show and told me to come along, so i did, and the time difference sucks 

minho 😖 : that was cara, she’s just one of the models i’ve worked with before. we just caught up a bit, i promise 

minho 😖 : i’m sorry for not keeping my promise for not replying as soon as you text 

minho 😖 : it’s really late there, i just checked the time 

minho 😖 : i’m really sorry, kitty 

minho 😖 : please forgive me 

💌

minho: good morning 🤍 are you up? 

kitty: good afternoon, i think? 

minho: you’d be more than correct! do you have any plans today? 

kitty: not really, i might just… go to the mall or something, catch up with my friends from school 

 minho: that’s great! i hope you have a good day <3

kitty: yeah :] hope your evening is good ✌️ 

💌

minho: i saw a cat here and it almost walked near a fire, i thought of you 

💌

minho: went to a bakery today and they had the salted caramel cupcakes you once spoke about, i personally like the peppermint swirl ones, and i bought a brownie because they remind me of you ❤️🔥

💌

minho: found a new hand cream today that i think you might like, i’m gonna buy you five bottles for when we get back to school—did they cancel your expulsion yet? 

💌

minho: covey, it’s been two weeks. i get if you don’t want to talk to me, but can you at least let me know if you’re alive? it’s worrying me.

💌

kitty: alive 

minho: okay good 

minho: i hope you’re okay, safe and eating healthy 

minho: i was going crazy because i hadn’t heard from you after a month of constant texting 

minho: my flight back is tomorrow

minho: i’m even more in love with you right now, covey. take care ❤️

💌

minho: which bedroom window is yours

minho: because if i pelt your dad’s window with stones, i think i’m at risk of being stoned 

kitty: my dad is actually a really chilled person 

kitty: wait a second, why do you want to know which window is mine? 

kitty: are you. outside my house? at midnight???

kitty: OH MY GOD YOU’RE OUTSIDE MY HOUSE 

💌

The window opens with a silent creak sending her heart into overdrive. 

These kinds of things, the one where Lara-Jean always romanticized about throwing stones at a window and climbing up ladders to get there, or even serenading someone with a boombox on the shoulder, it never applied to Kitty.

Yet somehow. Here she is, looking down at the front lawn under a midnight blue sky to find Minho at the bottom, waving at her with an elegant smile. He was annoyingly handsome; it irked her that she even thought of him like that. 

“What are you doing?!” She whisper-yells, although it sort of feels like she’s talking into an endless void. 

Minho cocks an eyebrow. “Well, I’m standing, at the moment.”

Palpitations burst through her heart as she almost falls through the window. “I can see that, thank you very much! I meant, here. What are you doing here , in Portland , at my house ?”

“You weren’t replying to my texts,” Minho answers, as if it’s obvious. “I wanted to check if you were okay.”

“Does that warrant you to travel all the way here?”

“Not really, but… You weren’t talking to me, and I was concerned that I’d hurt your feelings with whatever had happened in Paris. Platonic feelings, because we’re sort of friends,” explains Minho, bordering lame.

“So, let me get this straight,” Kitty clarifies, “you came here instead of going home, because you wanted to see if I’m mad at you. If I’m okay? Because I wasn’t talking to you?”

“Pretty much,” He declares. “Now, are you going to let me in or am I climbing up there? I have my Spotify playlist on the ready with a bluetooth speaker and I’m not afraid to use it!”

“Stop!” She whisper-yells again, hands flailing out to make his pause. “As much as I would love to see you climb the wall, I can’t wake my parents up, so I’ll come get you. Wait for me.”

“I’ve got nowhere else to go, Covey,” Minho replies with a mini salute. “Come and get me.”

Something in her bones tells her she might regret this, but she doesn’t let it guide her thoughts as she decides to sneak downstairs to let Minho into her house.

“Please let me survive this.” 

Chapter Text

There are nerves running down her spine, breaking across her palms right as she takes her foot off the last step of the flight of stairs leading her into the living room. Besides the lighting coming in through the curtains from the outside, the house is in pitch-darkness, illuminated by the glare of a measly phone torch. 

Minho is outside. He is outside, right now, fresh off a flight from Paris back to the USA, and instead of going back home to Los Angeles, he shows up (and probably jumped the fence around their yard) in a quest to be a modern-day Romeo minus all the yearning.

Currently, the occupants of her house include her dad, her step-mother, Margot, Lara-Jean and Peter. If any of them were to even find out about him being here, she will never live it down. She could literally kiss her peaceful life goodbye since it will certainly be filled with teasing until the end of time.

But, she realizes, with each step taken towards the front door, this is only if she is caught. Play her cards right and there will be no such thing — no one will even know Minho was here, at midnight, dropping by to see if she is okay, if they are okay. 

Kitty pauses just as she’s about to unlock the front door. For a second, she reels back, stomach twisting with a comfortable, familiar flutter, contrasting the feeling of tearing itself upside down. 

Things like this don’t happen to her.

And, yet. 

The door opens noiselessly. 

On the other side, Minho stands with a small carry-on luggage bag on the ground next to him and a miniature bluetooth speaker balancing on the palm of his hands.

“Oh, good! You figured out where your house front door is, I was beginning to get concerned.”

He shouldn’t look good. But, he does, which heightens her extreme annoyance felt towards him to unparalleled levels, especially after he decided to show up at her house completely unannounced. 

No warning, no clue. And, while she knows she had been ignoring him for two weeks due to reasons that are completely unrelated to the jealous pang that had stung her heart when she opened up social media and saw Minho next to one of the really famous people she had brought up a few weeks back, in a place where he had asked her if she would go with him, she felt like the silent treatment was worth it.

She didn’t know it would amount to this, though.

“You’re really here…” She blurts out. 

Minho tucks the speaker into the inside pocket of his black leather jacket, amused by the reaction. “I would hope so?”

“Why?” She pushes without moving from her place at the front door. “Why exactly are you here?”

“To see you,” He answers. “Covey, I’m here because I wanted to see you.” 

It’s too straightforward, exactly like his confession on the plane before takeoff in Seoul which had sent her into a spiral while waiting for him to tack on that it was just a joke. The punchline never came because it was nonexistent, and Minho’s feelings for Kitty were real. Are real. It was a lot to deal with fresh off the cusp of two heartbreaks within a short space of time of each other.

She knows it’s too soon to even think of someone else while her broken heart was searching for its scattered pieces, but Minho was doing something to make time go faster than she assumed it would.

While texting over these weeks, Kitty hasn’t paid much attention to whatever happened at KISS, and it was only because of the boy standing in front of her right now. 

“Did you…” She trails away from her thoughts. “Did you come here directly? Please tell me you have a place to stay and didn’t show up here at midnight without a plan or any idea of what you’re about to you?!”

“Like how you suddenly decided to go to KISS?” Minho counters playfully. 

This makes Kitty step outside into the warm air, shorts grazing the doorframe as she marches right in front of him with a huff, arms crossing over. “I’ll have you know, I was extremely prepared for KISS. I even made an immaculate powerpoint for my dad and Tri which convinced them to let me go all the way across the world for junior year!”

“To a country where you didn’t speak the language even though you had roots firmly planted there, love, let’s be realistic,” He stupidly points out, leaning against the pillar on the porch.

One stupid fact exchanged for a term of endearment that sends her world into a stream of somersaults. It didn’t help that his accent made it sound all the more fancier, especially with his graceful smirk and shining eyes that glistened like a segue of animations flowing into each other.

Love.

Minho called her love.

“I—I…” Her mouth is dry, parched with sandpaper grating down her throat as she tries to find the words to respond. It was much easier over text. It was easier to talk to him, easier with distance. Now, there is conflict, resolution pending. Instead of hyper-fixating on what has been said, she chooses to argue back with a stomp of her feet: “I can learn, I’m going to learn.”

“I never said you wouldn’t learn,” He replies, “do you want me to teach you? I don’t mind teaching you, I’ve only ever spoken Korean my entire life.”

Her jaw drops. “You want to teach me?” 

“Sure,” Minho shrugs, nonchalant. “I can teach you, Covey. No strings attached, just me focusing on the betterment of your education and language skills. Also, I know it’s warm out here, but could I please, like, be allowed inside for a few minutes?”

“Do you want me to die? Because, first, I would die, and then, you’d be crazy to think my family would spare you!”

“I thought you said your dad is pretty chilled? That doesn’t sound pretty chilled, that is false information.”

Kitty hates that she has to fight a smile. Abhors that he makes her forget everything and allows her to live in the moment of their conversations without any external factors influencing the mood. With him, she’s just Kitty, and he is only Minho, and more than anything else, she thinks it’s sort of great to feel all her thoughts jumble and fall away over the sight, thought, or mention of him. 

In a platonic way, she thinks. She’s great on the feelings front with everyone but herself lately. 

Honestly, she doesn’t mean to ramble, but with him looking like a stud in his leather jacket and boot-legged denims, and the pinstripe blue and white shirt half tucked-in, the other out, all rounded off with sunglasses hanging from his shirt, hair slicked back and a daydream-glazed look in his eyes, it is, unfortunately, inevitable.

“He’s pretty chilled when I don’t spring the fact that a boy I go to school with across the world suddenly jumped over our front fence, pitched up threatening to throw rocks at my bedroom window at midnight, and then coaxed me downstairs before playing me some playlist on a bluetooth speaker—which is a crazy shortcut, by the way! Real romantics blast bangers on boomboxes held over their shoulders — I have to give you a two out of ten for effort.”

And a ten out of ten for caring enough to drop everything to come to Portland and check on me despite me ignoring your texts, she desperately wishes to include, but does nothing of the sort. 

“Well, I guess I have to do everything in my power for the rest of this summer to amp up my unfair rating, don’t I, Kitty, and—”

“I like it,” Her rings wring into each other nervously as the words tumble out. “I like that you call me Covey.”

“Suits you,” Minho simply smiles. “So, am I allowed inside to catch my breath and find a hotel nearby or…?”

“Or you could explain why you and my sister-in-law are standing on the front porch after midnight as if you’re trying to wake up the entire neighborhood with the flirtatious banter?”

Oh, oh shit. 

How did she forget that Peter had decided to stay the night over before returning home for the two weeks he and Lara-Jean were back from their engagement vacation?

Actually, she did remember, but Minho had done a fantastic job at making her forget

“P-Peter,” Kitty struggles, disbelief allowing her blood to grow cold and her bones to sink deeper into her muscle. She had always been the one to give them trouble, but now, the shoe was devastatingly on the other foot. “It really isn’t what it looks like, I wasn’t going to—”

“Good, because you need to hear the talk about contraception from dad at leave two more times before you let a boy enter your house after curfew, Kitty.”

And, to her luck, would be Lara-Jean. 

Of course she would follow Peter out of bed.

They were basically attached at the hip nowadays with the sickly sweetness of their engagement high swirling through the air in full force. It was nauseatingly cute; Kitty would be charmed if she were not in the middle of her own summer crisis, really. 

Kitty’s cheek steam with an embarrassing amount of warmth. “Really?” She grits. “That’s what you want to say in front of Minho? Really, Lara-Jean?”

“The first time you met Peter, you let him pass the boyfriend test because he liked yakult. Minho, who we have heard so much about since the beginning of summer, can handle a little rough-housing from us, isn’t that right, Minho?” Lara-Jean speaks directly to Minho, who has since fixed his spine rim-rod straight since the introduction of two new faces, nods frantically.

“Of course,” He replies immediately.

“He’s lovely,” Lara-Jean coos, “you’re lovely. Kitty says you like mint-chocolate, how about I bake you a peppermint tart tomorrow as an arrival treat?”

“My sister’s love language is baking and feeding,” Kitty murmurs softly, but loud enough for Minho to hear. “She’s the best.” 

“Why are you taking this so casually? A boy came home to see Kitty! Lara-Jean, this is serious!” Peter almost whines, shaking his fiancée’s hand. 

All he receives is an odd look in return. “You and I went viral for making out in a hot tub,” She says plainly.

“Not in front of the children!”

“Kitty is going to be a senior in less than three months, she goes to school across the world and she is grown up enough to make decisions knowing that we love and trust her in every step of the way, no matter what she wants to do. We support her, Kavinsky,” Lara-Jean pokes his chest lovingly. “We support her because we love her. So, Minho gets a peppermint tart tomorrow, it’s final!”

She could cry. If she were not so struck by figuring out what Minho’s sudden appearance means for her, for him, for them, she would have cried, hands down. Her family has always been her rock, and they prove it time and time again on every single occasion.

“Fine,” Peter surrenders without any further arguments. A hand curls around Lara-Jean’s shoulders when he asks, “where are you staying tonight?”

“I hadn’t actually thought that far yet, sir,” Minho answers, rushed. Kitty’s lips lift at the sir. He is kind of adorable when terrified beyond his wits. “I’m sure I’ll figure something out!” 

“You and I will take Lara-Jean’s room, and Kitty and Lara-Jean can take Kitty’s room. We will figure out how to handle Dr Covey in the morning — give me your bag, let’s get moving,” Peter deals out the instructions so quickly that all Kitty sees is Minho following after him like a puppy, wide eyes staring at her for help but receiving none.

All he has time to say is, “Yes, sir!” before she watches him vanish up the stairs. 

“Night, Covey!” Minho calls quickly, cutely. 

She and Lara-Jean file into bed shortly after, nothing exchanged between them except gentle, contemplative breaths.

Once she’s under the covers, wrapped in her sister’s comforting embrace, Kitty begins to drift off to sleep when she hears the words being mumbled softly into her hair. 

“He calls you Covey,” says Lara-Jean.

Kitty’s heart bounces wildly. “I know,” She replies, because she does.

She knows exactly what it means. 

💌

minho: are you awake 

kitty: i just turned on my side away from my sister so yes, i am awake 

minho: there’s a line of pillows separating me and peter 

kitty: did he finally tell you to knock it off with the sir? that was terribly cute, i must confess 

minho: he’s older than me, his opinion means something 

kitty: why?

minho: because he means something to you, obviously 

kitty: ah…

kitty: are you sure you’ve never been in a committed relationship before? you seem well versed in the art of making a good impression

minho: yes, i am sure

minho: believe it or not, but i am running on pure, unfiltered instincts here 

kitty: good to know 

kitty: this was bold though, even for you 

minho: when i was booking my flight back, all i could think about was the fact that you were upset with me about what happened in paris, and i really couldn’t stand the fact that you weren’t talking to me anymore 

minho: talking to you feels like letting golden hour rays hit my face on a summer afternoon with the sunroof down

kitty: normal? 

minho: warm, unmatched, gentle 

minho: a good, pleasant habit that i wish to carry with me for a long time

minho: as long as you’d let me, in fact 

kitty: you’re… different

minho: you’re not just a roommate or an enemy or the ex/current/ex-girlfriend of one of my best friends, you’re definitely not a pen-pal 

minho: you’re the kitty i love, so yeah, i’m going to be a little different 

kitty: i feel like we’ll swing back to it once we get back to school

minho: possibly, but who knows what will happen between now and then 

kitty: so, you want us to be like… a summer secret?

minho: i don’t think my feelings for you have a time stamp. nor do i want to give it one

kitty: you flew all the way out here for me

minho: that i did 

kitty: you’re sleeping in my home next to my brother-in-law 

minho: that i am

kitty: you’re making it hard for me to keep this platonic 

minho: then don’t

kitty: i don’t want you to be a rebound 

minho: i won’t 

kitty: how are you so sure?

minho: because you’re you, covey

kitty: what does that mean 

minho: you go for what you want, so if you don’t want me to be a rebound, i won’t 

kitty: it’s that simple?

minho: it can be

minho: whatever you decide, take your time. i don’t mind waiting for you, covey 

kitty: how long are you willing to wait?

minho: however long it takes 

kitty: oh…

minho: good night, covey, i’m going to sleep because i kind of have to face your parents tomorrow and i’m about to collapse at the thought of it…

kitty: you’ll be fine

kitty: i’ll be there, right by your side 

minho: sweet dreams ❤️

kitty: good night, minho, xo ❤️

Chapter Text

kitty: minho, where are you?!

minho: morning, covey 🥰 how are you on this lovely morning that we are so very blessed to be experiencing?

kitty: minho, why are you MISSING? 

minho: funny story! i woke up this morning and realized exactly where i am and what i did in my fit to find out why you were upset with me and how to cajole you to speak to me again

kitty: minho

minho: and then i turned to see i was sleeping next to your brother-in-law 

kitty: oh brother 

minho: NO! not BROTHER! brother-in-law! keep up, love 

kitty: i am keeping up and the only thing that is consistent in your rambling is that you have not told me where you are so i can stop the search party my sisters are trying to launch????

minho: oh right 

minho: i’m in the bathroom? trying to see if i could fit out the window

minho: i’m athletic enough to pull off a tuck and roll

kitty: are you asking me if you’re fit enough 

minho: no i’m stating that i am fit enough to be able to pull it off smoothly in order to survive another day because i really can’t believe i slept in your house last night, that’s madness 

kitty: ah, so i see common sense has not escaped you after all 

minho: of course not—

minho: someone is knocking at the door and if this is how i am meant to ascend to the heavens (because i am angelic), let it be known that you are my first proper love, katherine song covey, and i do not regret it for a moment 

kitty: it’s me, can you open the door 

kitty: also, you’re starting to make love confessions at a rate of two mentions per day 

minho: is there anyone with you?

minho: is that all? i’ll have to amp my game up because that is pathetic

kitty: i come in peace without any side attachments to make sure you are okay 

kitty: aka i snuck away from my sisters and peter while they were figuring out how to alert the police department without causing any drama so my dad doesn’t find out before he needs to know

kitty: small details, really

minho: opening the door for you 

kitty: good because i have to brush my teeth too 🙁

💌 

In hindsight, Kitty doesn’t think it’s awkward at all to share one sink with Minho. Back at KISS, they essentially shared one bathroom between four people, and for the majority of the year, she had been rooming with three guys who were nowhere as bad as the intended roommate the school had tried to latch her to. 

Because of Minho. 

Remembering this tiny fact earns a scowl as the toothbrush roves from side to side, a faint side-eye glowering at the boy via the mirror he already happens to be sneaking a peek at Kitty through. 

They form a proper system of a ratio of twenty brushes to one chance to spit out the foam before continuing the soundless cycle. It works for the entire ten minutes spent cleansing their mouths. Minho’s products are in his limited-edition Versace cosmetic case, and Kitty has a mini basket of items hung on a makeshift rail next to her sisters’ temporary placements for their summer visits. 

Only, when they’re done, Minho sighs after rinsing his mouth one final time, grabbing a towel to dab over his face. She tries not to giggle over their matching headbands he insisted on wearing as soon as she walked into the bathroom. Green for Kitty, pink for Minho, both pastel shades that did not clash with their skin tones, according to the boy next to her.

“Minty fresh,” Minho hums. 

Kitty nods, agreeing. With her towel flung around her neck, she turns to him, silk pajamas shorts set and all, and raises an eyebrow. “Okay, Mr Minty Fresh. Would you care to explain why you bolted faster than Usain Bolt before Peter could wake up? He wasn’t going to skin you alive because he was less sleepy, I can vouch for him when it comes to that.”

He has the decency to look guilty for his sudden take-off without informing anyone. And, really, Kitty tries to be strictly upset that he was considering leaving without telling her a thing, but his body leans on the wall next to the sink, head sinking into the tile with a soft thud. Minho’s eyes are unfairly pretty in the morning, something she never really had a chance to observe before, for obvious reasons. 

It’s even more prettier when they are stuck on Kitty, unmoving. “Sure,” He says, still looking at her. “Everything hit me at once when I realized what I’d done and it was like I was going to get murdered before I could prove that I’d actually be a decent—actually, more than that, I’d be a great boyfriend if given the chance.”

Kitty swears her lips do not quirk over his rambling. It’s only the angle of the sun beaming in through the window grazing over the arch of his cheekbone that makes her heart flip in every single direction. 

“But, then, I… had a thought that wasn’t particularly the best.”

This breaks her out of the sparkly-eyed, sunkissed reverie that had taken over her mind. 

“What thought did you have?” She prods.

“Well, I don’t want you to ever feel forced to like me like that, Kitty. Romantically, I mean,” Minho licks his lips slowly, taking a moment to exhale before continuing. “Me coming to visit you wasn’t meant to be anything more than me checking in. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you into picking me because I’m here or because I’m constantly reminding you about my feelings. It isn’t the case at all,” He states frantically. “You’re my friend, first and foremost, Covey—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Kitty holds her hands up quickly to stop him from going on with the ridiculous train of thought he is currently spewing, “where is this coming from? I don’t feel that way at all, I don’t think you’re pressuring me into doing anything!”

Minho halts his tirade with his lips curled into a surprised o. “Really? You’re not upset with me?”

“Upset about you coming here to check in on me? Not at all, I think it’s a very kind gesture and that you are a very kind person even if you don’t want anyone to see through those annoyingly cemented walls you have constructed all around yourself,” Kitty explains, hoping to abate his concerns. 

“But—”

“Minho,” Kitty sighs, stepping forward until their faces are only a breath away from each other. She doesn’t know how she allows them to get this close, but it isn’t such a bad thing, she figures, mostly because his eyes are pools of chocolate that resemble her favorite type of ice cream; strikingly light under a sunlit haze, warm and gooey. 

She grins, slotting her hands around his waist to pull him in for a long-deserved hug. And, when it is least expected, Minho winds his arms around Kitty’s back, resting his chin over her head in a perfect curve.

The perfect fit. 

They fit.

She’s never hugged Minho before, but feels right — this is exactly where Kitty is meant to be. 

“You and I were unconventional friends, no? Back at KISS, we seemingly couldn’t stand each other, but now we’re here, after speaking more than two sentences at a time before wrapping up short-lived conversations. We’re here, now, in my home, where Lara-Jean is gathering ingredients to make you a peppermint tart and Peter probably thinks you’re adorable as ever for calling him sir except he’ll never mention how overjoyed he is by having one more person on his side. Margot is a fan of your mother’s older movies, so you already have an ally in her. Trina is wonderful and supports a lot of whatever I do because she knows I have a good head on my shoulders, and my dad is simply going to act tough for a few seconds before he realizes that you’re the guy who let me cry on your shoulder for the entire flight home—you didn’t hear it from me, but he kinda loves you for that.”

He deserved to know that her family knows about him. For the last twelve months, information has crossed the entire spectrum of extremes, from pretending to not know English at the airport, to him reporting her for staying in the boys dorm, to cooking together during Chuseok and comforting her by remembering her mother, by helping her get rid of the fire on her costume for the show, to never allowing things to be too emotional, but always being there for her in a sense.

It only went up from there. Kitty has spoken about Minho more than anything else this summer. Constant text messages, enquiries about how to read between the lines, lost love lines, traveling and the world and visiting other countries, food, happiness, joy, hidden family secrets exchanged without a second thought, and most importantly, the fact that her family has never been more relieved to see her slowly fall back into the regular Kitty routine that had been lost for a few days due all her classically dubbed Seoul sorrows. 

He doesn’t know it, but Minho is adored behind the four walls of the Song-Covey household. 

“You make it sound very, very easy, Covey,” He murmurs into her hair. 

“Because it is, there aren’t any obstacles to cross here. No hidden clauses, everything is in black and white. Get through breakfast and nothing will ever have you wanting to run away from my house before saying good morning ever again!” Kitty exclaims teasingly, bursting into laughter when Minho groans aloud. 

“I’m not going to live this down, am I?”

“Nope! Exactly like my sisters will never let me live the fact that you hopped off a plane and your first thought was me, totally deserved and proportional in terms of situations.” 

A fair deal from all angles; it works.

“I think I should shower and dress in my best before I meet your parents,” Minho decides quietly. 

“Don’t make it sound so serious, you’re meeting dad and Trina as a good friend from KISS because that is what we are, for now,” Kitty informs him, extracting herself from his hold. She doesn’t wait around to see his reaction to for now. 

She’s already out the bathroom door, closing it shut behind her, falling back into the engraved rectangle with a goofy smile on her face.

For now.

For now is only meant to be a short period of time.

💌

Dr Covey can be intimidating when he wants to be, Kitty knows this through and through about her dad, but underneath the fake tough demeanor he has going on, he actually has the softest marshmallow heart in the entirety of humankind. 

What makes it kind of annoying is that Peter stands at his side like a sidekick with arms crossed over, joining her dad in eyeing Minho down. They were placed at opposite ends of the kitchen counter with Lara-Jean and Margot in the middle working on something for Minho and breakfast respectively, but her sisters make no effort to hide their smiles and chuckles while Kitty stands next to Minho, waiting for their eventual judgment.

“You were not here when I went to bed last night,” Dr Covey turns to his wife for backup, “Tri, he was not here last night if my memory serves me correctly.”

“I mean, he certainly was not, but from the pictures Kitty has shown us on Instagram, you must be Minho, it’s very nice to meet you,” Trina greets him with a neutral flag held high in the air. She was being Switzerland, and Kitty appreciated it more than she could put into words.

“You go to school with Kitty in Seoul,” Dr Covey clicks his fingers, pretending to remember something Kitty knows he knows. “I didn’t know you were coming to visit, Kitty didn’t tell us. It’s nice to meet you, when did you arrive, Minho?” 

Ideally, it would not be such an issue to fabricate an arrival time to save all of them from any trouble, but the issue arrives when Lara-Jean drops a spoon from the shock of the question and Margot scrambles to add oil to the pan instead of non-stick spray before frying the eggs. It also serves as a problem when Minho cocks his head, freezing with his mouth wide open — a direct tell. 

“This morning!” Kitty answers abruptly, throwing herself into the island countertop. Technically, she isn’t lying whatsoever; it was past midnight when Minho popped into her yard, so it was this morning. “Minho arrived this morning after coming home from Paris with his mother from a fashion show kind of thing.”

“Okay,” He dad accepts easily, “why does everyone look so taken aback by the question? It’s nice to meet one of Kitty’s friends, the family is complete with everyone home for a few weeks and now the house will feel fuller, that’s always good.”

Mission accomplished, barely. Accomplished, nevertheless.

“Actually, Dr Covey,” Minho smiles easily, boyishly scratching the nape of his neck with his hand, “I. Um. So, my mum has tickets to the Barbie premiere in LA, the newest movie with um. Ryan Gosling—they’re friends, swell guy and all!” Minho coughs a little, averting his gaze from Kitty who looks equally confused. “So, I wanted to know if I could take Kitty to the premiere in… Los Angeles…?”

The room becomes tense at the invisible snap of a finger. 

“You want to take Kitty to a Barbie movie?” Dr Covey clarifies.

“It has Ryan Gosling in it,” Margot says, trying to help Minho. An ally indeed. “Kitty loves him, and from the new trailer that came out, it honestly looks like the type of movie she’d like with the themes and such.”

“That’s cute! Dad, he came all the way here to ask you permission instead of expecting it, he’s very sweet, don’t you think?” Lara-Jean, wide-eyed, tries to salvage the situation, glaring at Peter to assist, too.

“That’s actually a pretty nice first date idea, I’m kind of jealous that I didn’t have the resources you have now when LJ and I started dating,” Peter grins, winking at Minho.

“Oh, it’s not a date,” Minho corrects them quickly. “It’s just… hanging out… Because, Kitty still needs time, so it’s just us hanging out, I promise.” 

Wishing nanoseconds, all the tension that had built, shatters immediately. 

“Tell you what,” Dr Covey says, a soft, gentle look on his face forming as he looks between Kitty and Minho, “have breakfast with us and I’ll tell you my decision after, alright?”

Minho agrees instantly. “Yes, Dr Covey.”

Kitty looks down at the countertop, saying another silent prayer. It’s all she finds herself doing these days, but at least it works.

Through the pleas, she can’t help but feel her heart flutter over Minho’s consideration for her feelings.

It only makes the realization that she does, in fact, have feelings for him, even louder. 

She likes him.

Kitty likes Minho, too. 

Chapter Text

“So, what do you think Dr Covey is up to by making Minho garden with him in the front yard?” 

Kitty would love to answer the question if she had an inkling of a clue what her dad had up his sleeve when he invited Minho into the garden after a rather normal and pretty casual breakfast filled with typical family chatter and nonsense, including a few questions about the trip, and a collective review of KISS from both attendees with mixed feedback.

She had hoped it would be enough to quell any lingering thoughts of questions about Minho, especially since the untimely realization of her feelings had mercilessly unleashed at the table mid-bite of her egg roll, reeling in and around her head to the point where she choked on absolutely nothing when Minho had nudged her elbow, silently asking if she was okay. 

So, honestly, she has no idea how to answer Peter’s mildly ridiculous question when they were all sitting in the same boat, waiting for a plausible explanation as to why Minho is currently being put to work in the dirt. 

“His hands,” Kitty groans softly, resisting the urge to headbutt straight into the wall she, her sisters and Peter are currently hiding behind indoors. “His poor hands, they aren’t made for manual labor. Do you guys know he uses a hundred dollar hand cream that is custom-made for his skin type? And dad is making him push a barrel with sand!”

“It’s a small barrel,” Peter defends Dr Covey, “he’ll survive.” 

It does nothing to calm her down.

“That really isn’t the point I’m trying to make here!” She exclaims.

It’s more than hilarious, if she thinks about it, how her entire family, minus Trina who zipped her lips in a lock-tight seal and refuses to elaborate on her father's intentions with this, huddles at the front window, hiding behind the curtain while looking for any clues regarding whatever is going on outside. 

Margot squishes into Lara-Jean’s side, who pushes into Kitty, who also happens to be boxed in at the side by Peter. Hilarious, but terribly tragic since it depicts exactly how nosey they all are. 

“Dad didn’t do this to Peter!” Kitty states, crossing her arms. “This is so unfair, why is Minho having a personal trial in the garden?”

“It’s just a little dirt, Kitty,” Margot tries to placate her, “I’m sure he’ll be fine!”

“You’re supposed to be on his side, you said you liked his mother’s movies! Y’know what, I cannot take this anymore, I’m going outside to stop this because he tans very easily and it’s game over if anything stings him!” Kitty scrambles out of the family bind pressing her to the wall, escaping their hands and cries to stay inside, and marches straight out the front door, hands on her hips as she finally stops in front of a kneeling Minho, ploughing through the Earth with his hands.

Evidently, he was struggling to keep up with Dr Covey while they walked up and down the mini patch of soil trying to plant new seedlings. 

“Dad, Minho is our guest, do we really have to make him slave away under the hot sun?” 

“Kitty…” Minho chuckles, uneasy, handfuls of soil clumped in his hands. “what are you doing—I. Am. Fine!”

“No, you’re really not because, with that much soil, you’re practically killing the poor shoot,” She fires back, her heart beating a million miles per second after the earlier realization dawns on her again.

This is what overcompensation feels like. Noted. 

But, it’s really not her fault at all. Minho glistens under the midday sun, rolling off his previously tanned skin now framed with a white tank top— and, focus, she needs to stop, focus and get him back inside before he’s hit with a heat stroke.

“No, seriously,” He insists, desperation for something — possibly for her to stop talking — written across his face. “Kitty, I am perfectly okay. I love gardening! Dr Covey, I love gardening!” He reiterates quickly.

The audacity of him to glare at her questioningly when she was trying to save him. She should leave him to burn and peel under the sun if this is how he wants it. 

“Honey, he says he loves gardening! Let the boy get his hands messy, would ya?” Dr Covey, elated, quips back, slapping a soil-soiled hand over Minho’s shoulder. She watches him physically suppress a shudder from the impact of dirt on his skin. 

She finds it pointless that he is going to such extents to earn approval from her father while being strictly friends. Everything about it screams ridiculous, but she would never dare to voice this because it then brings another topic to the table: the fact that she thinks she is ready to finally be more than just friends with Minho. 

“We’re getting to know each other while gardening together, aren’t we, Minho? I was just telling him a bunch of things, like some of the best stops while driving down to LA during road trips. Your mom and I loved doing those before you girls were born and I had quite the eye for sightseeing back them. You’ll remember them, won’t you, Minho?”

Kitty backtracks. 

Did he just say…

Her eyes flicker to Minho. Wide eyes peer back at her, as if trying to say this is why he wanted her to not make a fuss over him being outside for less than an hour even if it meant specks of sand got under his fingernails. She understands and feels a little stupid. Permission was already there but she almost had it retracted. 

“You… were?” She asks, surprised. 

“Yeah, Minho was just telling me that he wouldn’t actually be driving, but that it will be one of his mom’s drivers, which convinced me eighty percent, and then he promised that he would bring you back on a flight a day or two after the premiere because he wants to show you around LA beyond Beverly Hills—”

“Y-You live in B-Beverly Hills?!” Kitty chokes out, eyebrows vanishing into her hairline. 

“I’m sure I mentioned it,” Minho replies.

She shakes her head, adamant. “No, you definitely haven’t.” 

“Well, you’re finding out now, right?” Minho is practically crying for her to go with the flow before the plans he managed to secure fall through, awkwardly laughing through the pain. “Isn’t it good enough?” 

“I mean! Yeah! Sure! He lives in Beverly Hills — 90210! I think. Oh God.” She’s rambling. Complete nonsense, at that. Why is she mentioning the postal code? 

“Kitty, honey, you should go pack for your mini trip, don’t you think so? Minho’s already packed since he arrived last night so he can keep helping me with the gardening until you’re done,” Dr Covey urges her to head back inside, making her stumble backwards with a nod.

Minho looks distraught over the idea of him remaining behind before Kitty leaves to get ready.

She almost feels bad to leave him to the elements. But, then, she remembers.

Kitty, I am perfectly okay. I love gardening! 

“I think I will,” She hums in agreement, not missing the explicit betrayal striking Minho’s features. “He said he loves gardening, so a few more minutes in the soil and greenery should be rejuvenating, right, Minho? I’ll be back soon!”

She hides her laughter while walking backwards a few paces, only to see the tiny shovel drop from his hand over the realization that she was actually abandoning him for the next half an hour.

His eyebrows furrow adorably. She despises how rapidly her heart beats inside her chest, especially when she feels a twinge of guilt for leaving him to the mercy of her father.

“I’ll be quick,” She promises. 

She wonders how Minho would feel if he knew he was dramatically pouting over her disappearance.

“Okay,” He gives in. “See you in a few, Covey.”

Be still her silly little heart. 

💌

A convertible is parked in front of her yard.

An orange-rusted, silver-outlined vintage Ford Mustang. Probably from the 1960s if her hunch is correct.

And, in the front seat, is their designated driver. 

“This is your mom’s?” Peter asks, mouth agape.

“Yes,” Minho answers, lips thin as he explains. “So, my dad used to like collecting vintage beauties like this. After they divorced, however, my mum got half the assets and made it a goal to buy every single car my dad wanted. This just happens to be the one I said I’ve always liked, so she sent it up when I requested it.” 

“Your family is… interesting,” Lara-Jean chooses her words carefully. “Kitty, do you have everything you need?”

She wants to remind them that this isn’t the first time she’s leaving home to travel elsewhere. In fact, she wants to bring up how she traveled to KISS all the way in Seoul all by herself and that this would be a walk in the park compared to language barriers and accidental falls in front of cars because Minho will be with her.

But, she can’t, because that’s also kind of the issue — Minho is going to be with her.

They’ve traveled together before, unintentionally. A twelve-hour flight including unforeseen confessions, endless tears and a comatose, dreamless sleep. It hadn’t been the best experience to look back upon, but it was something, at least.

Technically, this should be ten times better than the first unexpected time. Everything sits neatly in her small carry-on. Her clothes, towels, essentials for sanitation, make-up and perfume spritzes, three pairs of handy shoes and a semi-okay outfit she thinks will give her a pass at the Barbie premiere, since this is the main event of their journey and not the road trip itself.

Her bag is next to Minho’s on the pavement, family awaiting their departure, making it bigger than it really is, but she says nothing. Only hugs each one of them and ignores their requests for souvenirs. Lara-Jean holds out a container for Minho to take, which he does, albeit confused.

“You’re the only one here who eats mint, I’d rather you take it since you enjoyed it earlier when you came back inside from all that yard work,” She chuckles, gently ruffling his freshly washed hair — he went immediately in the shower after they were done outside; Kitty wishes she had taken the wager her siblings tried to rope her into. “Have a good time, be safe, obey the rules of the road and all of that! Peter and I will be here to see you off when you’re going back to Seoul at the end of summer, I promise you.” 

It doesn’t take long to pack their things in the boot. Takes even less time to hop into the backseat. She waves as they begin the drive off, five figures disappearing the further they go down the road. 

“Do you mind if I eat this?” He asks, already holding the spoon in his hand while cracking the container open. “I’d really hate to see it go to waste, your sister put a lot of time into it.”

“How considerate of you,” Kitty teases. “No, I don’t mind. So… do you call Ryan Gosling uncle, or…?”

Minho nearly snorts. “What? Oh, God, no. He likes being called Ryan. Pretty sure uncle would make him feel old.” To punctuate his statement, a spoonful of peppermint tart pops into his mouth.

“We’ve got a fifteen-hour drive, not accounting for rest stops and or traffic. I’d love to know how you plan on keeping me entertained. Also, is keeping the roof down a good idea because you were clearly scarred by the sunlight earlier in the day?” 

“You wouldn’t happen to be teasing me, Covey?”

“I just might…?” Kitty replies. 

However, unfortunately, Minho has temporarily given up on eating the peppermint tart in favor of wiggling his free fingers, bringing them dangerously closer to her body. 

“Do not even think about tickling me, I’m warning you!” Her voice heightens as she presses backwards. 

She likes to think there was a valiant effort to stop the attack on her behalf, but simultaneously knows it was very half-hearted because of the wide grin that grows on his lips when he sends her into stitches. 

When she calms down a few minutes later and he returns to his dessert, she takes the opportunity to scoot closer on the leather seats until their arms graze. 

“Do you think it’s weird? That we’re here, together, turning onto the highway that will put us on track to Los Angeles?” She asks. 

“Why would I think it’s weird?”

I don’t think it’s weird because I’m in love with you, is what she hears. 

“Never mind,” She shakes her head. “I think I’m going to nap a little because someone decided to interupt my sleep last night.”

“You should,” He nods seriously. “Here, go ahead and lie down.” Minho shimmies down and offers his shoulder as a pillow to Kitty without warning. 

She pauses, but gives in so quickly it almost causes whiplash. “Okay, thanks, Minho,” She mumbles her gratitude, resting her cheek on his shoulder. 

Even with her eyes closed, she feels him slot an Airpod into her ear, the beginning keys of a familiar song starting, but they fly open instead of settling, face to face with Minho who looks like he’s been caught out.

“Relax,” She assures him, “I want to listen to music with you and fall asleep, especially the playlist you made for our modern-day Romeo and Juliet tales, but I’d rather we listen to this.” 

Then, she rests against his shoulder one more time, and allows herself to drift off into a light slumber. 

💌

minho: text me back when you’re awake

kitty: this was two hours ago and now i’m awake but why can i not speak to you like a normal person would since i am literally squished into your side?

minho: are you comfortable?

kitty: very, thank you!! 

minho: your dad told me the name of this retro dinner on the way and i check the navigation, i think we’re about an hour away

minho: let’s stop there for dinner?

kitty: yes, sure, food is great! but why text me when i’m right next to you? 

minho: want to speak to you without the driver listening, he reports everything back to my mum unfortunately.

minho: texting is also kind of our thing 

kitty: oh… why didn’t you say so?

kitty: and yeah, you’re right, it is our thing 

minho: because it doesn’t matter, love. you’re really pretty when you fall asleep on me, by the way. keep napping, i’ll wake you up when we get there ❤️

kitty: okay ❤️

💌

While she was frantically packing her clothes to fit into her bag earlier, a quick Google search had told Kitty all there is to know about road trips. One of the more special parts of it is the wind in your hair, and it is one of the prettiest scenarios ever witnessed in her life — watching the sunset over an endless horizon with Minho’s body as a temporary cushion, his arm swung over her shoulders in a casual embrace. 

Her head slants, fitting into the crook of his neck as they continue driving down the highway. Minho had awoken her saying they’d arrive for dinner in fifteen minutes.

It was exhilarating to feel the wind caress her cheeks. Kitty has never gone on a road trip like this before, but she thinks that, with the right company, it was in the standing to become something she’ll love to do.

The engine hums on low when they take an exit, a few minutes later rolling into the parking lot of Retro City. The neon lights are inviting. From outside, Kitty can already see the checkered linoleum and linen and bright, cherry-red booths. Disco balls hang overhead with 80s music playing in the background, but she could tell they have everything from the 60s onwards available for listening judging by the posters on the walls once they walk inside.

Minho does the talking, asking for a table for two.

“If you’re worried about the driver, don’t be — he saw a burrito place a few meters down and went to check it out. So, what will you have?”

The pretty lights, her comfort level, the way her hand has to physically restrain from pressing to her chest to calm her heart, all of these signs point to the chemicals in her brain interpreting this as a date.

A date with the person she happens to like. 

“Honestly, one thing I’m going to complain about is how much healthier the food is in Seoul. Everything on this menu is giving me a chill down my spine, I eat organic food—sorry, I’ll shut up now.”

He stops complaining dead in his tracks when he notices the raised eyebrow from Kitty, who has to quickly school her features to not appear enamored by his ranting about food. She wants to tell him, but also doesn’t want to throw it out there and expect anything to happen, not when he’s been so courteous about giving her time, promising to wait however long it would take.

After a few more minutes of browsing the menu, she settles for a burger and cheesy fries with a pink lemonade. When he’s not looking, she requests two bendy straws.

Minho can’t drink too much dairy, she remembers. She already had asked LJ to use the least amount of milk possible while baking earlier for the exact same reason. 

“Things I do for you, Covey,” Minho shakes his head, mumbling quietly after placing his order. 

A duplicate of hers, it seems, except there is no lemonade, and he asks for normal fries instead of ones soaked with cheddar cheese. 

“It’s almost six p.m. now, so maybe we could drive until about half past nine, and then check into a nearby hotel or something. We can’t drive the whole night. Then we can be up by four and start again. Should be in LA by midday with that timeline,” Minho lays down a makeshift itinerary. 

“Sounds good, are there any hotels near where we’d be by then?”

“A few, I checked it out. But, if it doesn’t work, there’s always AirBnB. Something will come up.”

She realizes that this is the first time they have more than roughly five minutes to themselves to have a conversation.

“I was also thinking that tomorrow, I could drive, since this technically is my car, and then it’ll be our road trip. What do you think?” 

“Are you asking me to put my life in your hands?” Kitty jokes.

“I’m a pretty good driver, I drive a lot when I’m here because I got my license pretty early. So, there is experience on my side, if you need help being convinced. Besides, I’m going to be the one driving you around when we get to LA anyway, so doesn’t it make sense that you get used to it now?

It doesn’t. But, she doesn’t exactly hate that it doesn’t and is willing to trust him, even if his logic is slightly skewed. It’s kind of cute. 

“Okay,” She relents, “I’m convinced. You’re responsible for driving tomorrow, so impress me.”

“And impressed you shall be!” He taps his fist lightly on the table to seal the deal. “I can’t believe it, y’know, that I’m here, with you, doing this.”

“Waiting for the burgers you’re afraid might send you to an early grave?” 

She likes the teasing banter going back and forth. It’s new territory from the old, cold snipes exchanged between them. This is the kind of element Kitty enjoys with Minho, she’s discovered, and she never wants it to end under any circumstances.

Minho rolls his eyes playfully. “That, and going to LA with me,” He supplies.

“Don’t you have like a hundred and some odd number of girls at your beck and call?”

Again, he rolls his eyes, this time with a mixture of hurt and anger swimming through them. “Sure, but none of them are you, Kitty. You’re the only one I actually want to be with. Not casually, not in passing, but something real. Something meaningful. However, I don’t wish to spring it on you during dinner, that’s distasteful of me and—”

“How did you know that you liked me?” Kitty asks. “How did you figure that part out?” 

“That was annoyingly easy,” Minho chuckles, relaxing into the booth. “I started noticing you more, your presence became amplified in this unexplainable way. Kept wanting to see you smile, became agitated every time I saw you with someone, wanted to punch the people responsible for making you sad, started remembering little things about you that I really haven’t bothered with anyone else. I started worrying about you, wanted you to be safe and protected, and I really hated watching how everyone kept breaking your heart, but it was never my place to say anything because… We weren’t like that before.”

Oh. 

Oh.

Toying with a tissue on the table nervously, Kitty gulps, unable to look up when she formulates an appropriate response to Minho’s well thought-out and solidified build-up of his feelings for her and how they came about.

“But, here’s the thing,” She minces her words, lips pursing in and out before taking the plunge. “What if I want it to be your place?” 

While Minho had been previously fiddling with a straw to concentrate his nervous energy while rehashing his feelings in front of Kitty, it comes to an abrupt halt when he truly listens and realizes what she’s trying to say.

“You… You... Want it to be my place? As in…?” He trails off, waiting for her to continue. Clearly, he doesn’t want to misunderstand this, but he very obviously isn’t because what she says is exactly as implied. 

“Your place, where you can say something if you want to, Minho.”

Her throat is so dry; she wishes the lemonade was here already to quench her thirst and give her a pseudo sense of liquid courage (non-alcoholic, of course — alcohol does not bode well with her at all). 

Aside from the millions of thoughts rolling around his skull, Minho’s facial expressions are a dead giveaway of how much the unexpected change of opinion really fares with him. 

“Spell this out for me, Covey. I need it in proper words before I do or say something stupid that leads to me regretting it for the foreseeable future.”

A tad bit dramatic. Why was he always over-exaggerating and making things more dramatic than they truly are? She supposes it’s charming in a way, and that’s how Kitty concludes that she has more or less lost her mind because she’s actually defending him now.

She definitely likes him, no question marks necessary.

“Spell it out for you?” She pretends to think. “Okay, then. This cute little retro dinner, I want it to be our first date. I’ll have memories of you pretending to hate the food, doing everything to make me smile while Journey to the Center of Your Heart by Donna Summer serves as the soundtrack. And then comes after, right? We go back to school and I want to hold your hand and not care about what people say about us. I want to explore every nook and cranny of Seoul we have and haven’t seen yet. I want to write our names on love locks, study together, kiss you between the bookshelves. I want to talk to you on the phone until we fall asleep, I want to talk to you about everything and anything. I really want to know everything about you. More than anything else, I just… want to be with you. Whatever happens after, it’ll happen.”

And, maybe she replaces him as the dramatic one for two minutes during her quiet spiral, but it’s more than worth it when she sees the flabbergasted look on his face.

Something tells her he did not expect a reciprocal confession at all.

“So, if I have to spell it for you, besides all of that, it’s as simple as this. I like you, too, Minho. Not as a rebound, not as a last resort. It’s been long enough for me to know my feelings for Dae and Yuri don’t even linger anymore because you’re all I ever think of these days.” 

Minho is stunned speechless, body lax with surprise.

“I don’t want this to be two friends hanging out, I’d like for this to be me dating the guy I like with romantic intentions until we think—”

“Kitty, do you really like me back?” His eyes shine with happiness. 

“It’s not such an impossible thought, especially now that I feel like I know you a little more than the aloofness you tried to play off as you for the entire school calendar,” She points out. 

“You like me?” Minho asks again.

“That’s what I just said, yep,” She nods.

At long last, their food arrives all at once, because apparently Minho had requested it as such, but it does nothing to move her away from being stuck on the thought of him.

She slides the lemonade with two bendy straws between them. “Let’s share. I was going to order a milkshake, but the last time that happened…” Minho grimaces at the bush in his memory. “Yeah,” Kitty laughs, “lemonade was my only choice, as you can tell.”

“You like me,” says Minho, awed.

She smiles, leaning in. “I do. I like you.”

In an instant, Minho jumps out of his seat opposite her and claims the one at her side, face sinking down to meet her with the other bendy straw belonging to him. Small sips are taken with wide grins and dancing eyes reflecting the silver from the disco balls.

“Good, because I still love you, Kitty, and I’d really want to do all of those things and more with you, whenever you want to do them.”

Reading it over text is one thing, but hearing him say it always made her skin tingle. The thing is, Minho always sounds so sure whenever he speaks these words — it’s slightly enthralling and daunting at the same time.

And, then, Minho abandons his straw and leans in after Kitty does the same, kissing her soft and sweet, chaste and giddy. 

She doesn’t will it to happen, but when it does, she goes with it, smiling to the thumping beat of her heart. He tastes tart lemon, but smells amazing, and his fingers are smooth against her cheeks, holding her in place gently. She kisses back, just as delicate and soft, mirroring his excitement.

“Sorry, sorry,” He apologizes, quickly retreating. “Should’ve asked before doing that, love. Got ahead of myself.”

“No, no, I kissed back, it’s fine,” She assures him. 

“In the name of Barbie, since we’re going to the premiere and all, do you wanna be boyfriend-girlfriend?” 

She can’t help the pure laughter that bursts from the base of her lungs, letting herself fall back into him until their lips collide again. A little harder, just as sweet, more purposeful, giving him the answer to his question.

“I’ll take it as a yes?” He mumbles into her mouth.

“Definitely yes.”

Minho takes it as his cue to be the responsible one, putting space between them once again even though the way he licks his lips tells Kitty he’d rather any but that. 

“Food’s getting cold — we have to keep to time, Covey! Eat up!” He nudges her towards the plate. 

Maybe this is what love is, Kitty thinks to herself. I’ll let myself have it, because he makes me happy, and I’ll do my best to do the same for him, even though he was never on my cards. 

“Okay, but I need you to taste a cheesy fry—just one, please! You’ll be fine!” 

Luckily, they have plenty of time to figure it out together.

💌