Chapter Text
Korea Independent School of Seoul, or KISS, stood tall and proud, its sleek glass exterior reflecting the afternoon sun. Manicured trees lined the entrance, their leaves rustling in the soft breeze. Beyond the gates, the school stretched out in a perfect harmony of modern architecture and traditional Korean aesthetics.
The moment Kitty stepped back into KISS, she felt it—an unmistakable shift in the air, like a warning sign of impending chaos. Maybe it was just the weight of returning after everything that had happened. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because within ten seconds of entering the school, she had already spotted the one person she least wanted to see.
Min Ho.
Of course, he was here. Because where else would he be, if not standing by the fountain, looking like he had just walked out of a movie scene?
Kitty spotted him instantly—like some kind of unfortunate sixth sense she had developed over time. Min Ho, effortlessly composed, casually flicking a coin into the water with the kind of practiced ease that made it look intentional, cinematic. The early morning sunlight filtered through the trees, catching in his perfectly styled hair—because of course it was perfect—casting a soft, golden sheen on his sharp features
He looked expensive . Like a designer ad brought to life. Wrapped in an immaculate coat that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe combined, he stood there exuding a confidence so aggravatingly natural it made her want to roll her eyes into another dimension.
And—because the universe clearly hated her—he was smirking. Because Min Ho didn’t know how to exist without smirking. Min Ho had some kind of built-in radar for detecting her presence. His gaze locked onto hers, and in an instant, that slow, lazy smirk stretched across his lips.
Kitty felt it immediately—that familiar, unwelcome sensation curling in her stomach. The silent acknowledgment that this boy, standing there as if the world bent to his presence, was about to be a problem.
Again .
"Oh no," Kitty thought.
“Look who finally crawled back.” His voice cut through the air, smooth and laced with arrogance, the smirk on his lips making Kitty’s blood boil instantly.
Kitty let out a long sigh, adjusting the strap of her yellow bag. “Wow. Ten seconds in, and you’re already unbearable. New record.”
Min Ho placed a hand over his chest in mock offense, his expression exaggerated. “ Kitten , I was merely expressing my excitement. I missed our daily battles.”
Kitty’s entire body tensed. That nickname.
“Don’t call me that.”
Min Ho tilted his head slightly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Why not? It suits you. Small, always hissing, claws out whenever I’m around.”
Kitty scoffed, crossing her arms. “At least I don’t strut around like I own the place.”
Min Ho leaned in slightly, just enough for Kitty to catch the faint scent of his ridiculously expensive cologne. His smirk widened, his voice dropping slightly.
“Oh, but I do own the place.”
Kitty groaned, tilting her head back as if pleading with the universe for patience. “Ugh. I forgot how much your face annoys me. It’s like an expensive ad campaign for arrogance.”
Min Ho barely blinked, his smirk only deepening. “Can’t take your eyes off me, can you?”
Before Kitty could fire back, a familiar voice slid between them like a well-timed whistle.
“Alright, let’s not start World War III before first period.”
Q stepped between them like a seasoned referee, utterly unfazed by the chaos he was interrupting. He shot Kitty a teasing grin. “Welcome back, chaos queen. ”
Then, turning to Min Ho, he added dryly, “And you—try not to get punched today.”
Kitty exhaled sharply, crossing her arms. “No promises.”
Min Ho let out a low chuckle, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” He shot Kitty one last lingering glance before strolling off, hands tucked into his pockets, radiating the kind of confidence that made her want to trip him. Hard.
Kitty let out a slow breath. This year was going to be torture.
***
Inside the main hall, Kitty and Q walked side by side, their steps echoing slightly against the polished marble floors. The scent of fresh coffee and pastries from the school café mingled with the crisp air conditioning, creating a strangely cozy contrast to the grandeur of KISS.
As they passed groups of students gathered near the bulletin board, their eyes landed on Dae, sitting alone at one of the long tables near the cafeteria entrance. His notebook was open, but his pen hovered above the page, tapping absently against the paper.
Q nudged Kitty with his elbow. “Look who’s brooding all by himself.”
Kitty sighed dramatically. “Tragic. Guess we should go save him before he disappears into his own thoughts forever.”
With that, they wove through the scattered tables and chairs, stopping in front of Dae.
“You’re late,” Dae said, still not looking up.
Kitty dropped into the seat across from him, setting her bag down with a thud. “Got held up,” she muttered, glancing over her shoulder just in time to see Min Ho stride into the building, exuding effortless confidence like he belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine. “By an unavoidable nuisance.”
Dae followed her gaze, then sighed knowingly. “You and Min Ho really don’t get along, huh?”
Q smirked. “It’s entertaining, though. Like watching a bad rom-com unfold in real-time.”
Kitty shot him a glare. “It’s not a rom-com. It’s a psychological thriller where I’m trapped with the world’s most insufferable antagonist.”
Before Dae could respond, a familiar voice cut through the conversation.
Yuri, flanked by Juliana, Eunice, and Mihee, approached, looking effortlessly put-together as always. Yuri radiated quiet confidence, while Eunice and Mihee were already deep in discussion about some extracurriculars.
“Did you guys see the new dance club auditions?” Mihee asked excitedly.
“I heard Principal Lee might even drop by to watch,” Eunice added.
Kitty perked up. “Wait, Principal Lee actually pays attention to student events?”
Yuri nodded, her expression amused. “Yeah, but only when it benefits the school’s reputation.”
Juliana chuckled. “And when he’s not busy dealing with Alex’s unconventional teaching methods.”
Kitty groaned. She had already heard plenty of complaints about Alex’s assignments, and it was only the first week of classes. It didn’t help that Alex was Principal Lee’s son, which probably meant he had way more room to experiment with his teaching style than any other teacher.
Nearby, Dae’s gaze flickered to Eunice as she studied the list of extracurriculars plastered on the bulletin board. Various clubs competed for attention with colorful posters and flashy fonts, their slogans promising everything from academic excellence to social prestige.
Dae tilted his head slightly. “Are you thinking about joining the dance club?”
Eunice brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe,” she admitted, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I took ballet when I was younger, but I don’t know if I still have it in me.”
Dae nodded, thoughtful. “I’m sure you’d be great.”
Eunice let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “Are you just saying that to hype me up?”
Dae grinned. “Maybe.”
Kitty, who had been skimming the club list, perked up at the mention of dance. She tapped her chin thoughtfully, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Actually… I was thinking about trying out dance classes too.”
Before anyone could respond, a scoff cut through the air, sharp and unmistakable.
“Covey in a dance club?”
Min Ho’s voice rang with amusement as he appeared beside them, arms crossed over his chest, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in blatant skepticism. His posture was relaxed, but the glint in his eyes made it clear he was about to enjoy this.
“That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
Kitty spun around, eyes narrowing into slits. Her hands immediately found her hips, a defensive stance she often took when Min Ho decided to be insufferable—which was, unfortunately, most of the time.
“Why?” she challenged, tilting her chin up defiantly. “Afraid I’ll be better than you at something?”
Min Ho smirked, completely unfazed. “Unlikely,” he drawled, his tone dripping with condescension. “But by all means, prove me wrong. I could use a good laugh.”
Yuri, standing off to the side, let out a long-suffering sigh as she crossed her arms. “Oh great, here we go again.”
But Kitty wasn’t about to let it slide.
“I’ll have you know, I have rhythm,” she declared, tossing her hair over her shoulder for extra emphasis.
Min Ho arched an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Covey, I’ve seen you trip over absolutely nothing.”
Kitty scoffed, crossing her arms. “That was once.”
“Three times,” Min Ho corrected smoothly, ticking them off on his fingers.
Eunice turned to Minee, whispering behind her hand, “Should we... stop them?”
Mihee barely spared them a glance before shaking her head. “Nah, they’re in their own world.”
Juliana sighed, shooting a knowing look at Yuri. “Do they even hear us?”
“Not a chance,” Yuri muttered.
Kitty huffed, lifting her chin higher. “For your information, I’ve got great moves.”
Min Ho snorted. “Oh, I’m sure. What’s your signature move? The awkward two-step? The ‘I think I know how to body roll but actually don’t’?”
Kitty’s glare could have burned a hole through his designer sweater. “Ha-ha,” she deadpanned. “You’re hilarious.”
Min Ho flashed his most infuriating grin. “I know.” Then, as if he hadn’t already been condescending enough, he added, “But seriously, Covey. Dancing takes coordination, confidence, rhythm—”
“Which I have,” Kitty cut in sharply.
Min Ho gave her a slow, exaggerated once-over, his lips twitching. “Mmm... debatable.”
Kitty threw her hands in the air. “Oh my God. You are the worst.”
Dae, unimpressed by their never-ending bickering, glanced between them. “So are you joining or not?”
“Not if he is,” Kitty grumbled, crossing her arms tighter.
Min Ho gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest as if she had mortally wounded him. “Covey, you wound me.”
Kitty rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You’d make the worst dance partner.”
Min Ho’s smirk returned, lazy and confident. “Funny. You’ll be saying the opposite when you’re begging me to lead you across the dance floor.”
Yuri groaned loudly. “Seriously, why don’t you two just get married already and save us from the endless waiting?”
Kitty and Min Ho simultaneously snapped their heads toward her, faces contorted in identical expressions of horror.
“Ew.” Kitty wrinkled her nose.
“Pass.” Min Ho folded his arms.
Juliana shook her head, watching their argument with clear amusement. “You two bickering about dancing is hilarious. I hope one day—one day—you’ll actually dance together. Like, romantically .”
Kitty nearly choked on air. “Excuse me?”
Eunice gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, yes. Imagine the tension.”
Mihee clasped her hands together, eyes twinkling. “The passion!”
Yuri, grinning, added, “The undeniable chemistry.”
Kitty looked around at them, utterly betrayed. “You’re all insane.”
Meanwhile, Min Ho tapped his chin, pretending to consider the idea. “Romantic dance, huh?” He shot Kitty a slow, smug smile. “Well, I am an excellent dancer. If Covey can keep up, I wouldn’t hate it.”
Kitty’s entire face scrunched up in horror. “Over my dead body.”
Min Ho gasped, placing a hand over his heart like she had just shattered his soul. “Covey, so dramatic . If you wanted to be in my arms that badly, you could’ve just said so.”
Yuri outright wheezed at that.
Kitty, officially done with his nonsense, crossed her arms and leveled him with a glare. “You know what? I’m banning you from speaking to me.”
Min Ho tilted his head, mockingly thoughtful. “Sure. Until you break your own rule just to argue with me again.”
Her jaw clenched. Unbelievable. The way he always acted so smug, so infuriatingly sure of himself—it made her want to wipe that smirk right off his face.
Dae, sensing the inevitable explosion, quickly stepped in. “Alright, let’s not start another argument in the first week.”
Q, who had been silently watching their argument, finally spoke up with an amused grin. “Yeah, save it for when it actually matters.”
Before Kitty could fire back, Eunice smoothly changed the subject, adjusting the strap of her bag. “So, did you finish the summer reading?”
Dae exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Define ‘finish.’”
Eunice raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Dae.”
“I got through most of it!” he defended, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just… didn’t exactly read every word.”
She sighed, shaking her head. “You do know there’s probably gonna be a quiz, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He let out a dramatic sigh, then shot her a look. “You’re gonna ace it, though.”
Eunice shrugged, though there was a knowing glint in her eyes. “Hopefully.” Then, with a teasing smile, she added, “Maybe I should quiz you now. Pop quiz, first question—”
Dae groaned again, but this time, there was a small, amused smile playing at his lips. “Please, spare me. First day back, Eunice. Show some mercy.”
Eunice laughed, shaking her head. “Fine. But if you fail, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Kitty raised an eyebrow, watching the easy banter between them. Huh . That was interesting.
Kitty might have let it go, but something in the way Dae spoke felt… off. Subtle, but noticeable. His voice was a little lighter, his shoulders a little tenser, and when Eunice turned to smile at him, his entire demeanor shifted. His posture straightened ever so slightly, his expression softened, and there was this barely-there flicker in his eyes—like he was suddenly hyperaware of her presence.
Kitty noticed the way his fingers twitched against his notebook, as if resisting the urge to fidget. His usual confident, easygoing stance was replaced with something… nervous? No, not quite. More like careful. As if he didn’t want to mess up, didn’t want to say the wrong thing. And Eunice? Completely oblivious. She kept talking, completely at ease, while Dae occasionally nodded along, his focus just a little too sharp, his attention a little too unwavering.
As their friends remained absorbed in their conversation about extracurriculars, Kitty leaned in slightly toward Dae, lowering her voice so only he could hear.
"So… Eunice, huh?" she whispered, her tone laced with curiosity.
Dae stiffened instantly, nearly dropping his pen. "What?"
Kitty smirked, clearly enjoying his reaction. "You seem very invested in her academic success. Kind of sweet, honestly."
Dae shot her a sharp look before muttering under his breath, "It’s called being a good friend, Kitty. Not everything has to be a rom-com in your head."
Kitty hummed thoughtfully. "Uh-huh. Sure."
Dae let out a sigh, flipping a page in his notebook with just a little too much force. "Drop it."
Kitty just grinned wider. "Alright." But she didn’t miss the way the tips of his ears turned the faintest shade of red.
Their friendship was fine. Dae had moved past everything, settled into a rhythm of comfortable camaraderie. But moments like this still felt... tricky. Not tense, exactly—just a little too self-aware. Like walking on a floorboard that creaked ever so slightly underfoot.
Across the table, their friends remained engrossed in their discussion, too caught up in club talk to notice. But Min Ho did.
He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes fixed on Kitty and Dae. His jaw ticked slightly as he watched them whisper, his expression unreadable.
That usual smug grin? Gone. Replaced by something quieter. Sharper.
Kitty didn’t notice. Or maybe she did and just didn’t care, too busy teasing Dae. Either way, Min Ho was watching. And if there was one thing Kitty should’ve learned by now—it was that Min Ho never just watched without a reason.
***
Later that evening, Kitty made her way to her dorm. Unlike the shared rooms most students had, hers was a single dorm—small but cozy, with a window overlooking the school gardens. The walls were still mostly bare, aside from a few photos she had pinned up of her friends and family back home.
She collapsed onto her bed, groaning into her pillow. Dealing with Min Ho was going to be a test of patience she wasn’t sure she’d pass.
She reached for her phone, hesitating for a second before typing out a message to Q.
Kitty : Why is Min Ho still like that?
Q : Like what?
Kitty : Annoying. Smug. Infuriating.
Q : That’s just Min Ho. You’ll get used to it.
Kitty : Never
Q: Uh-huh. And yet, you’re texting me about him instead of, I don’t know, doing literally anything else?
Kitty: I’m asking for support , not analysis!
Q: Oh, my bad. Here you go: Wow, Kitty, that sounds so hard. How do you even survive?
Kitty: I hate you.
Q: No, you hate Min Ho. You’re just mildly annoyed by me.
Kitty: BLOCKED.
She tossed her phone onto the bed, crossing her arms with a huff. Q was the worst. Actually, no—Min Ho was the worst. Q was just an enabler.
Before she could fully recover from that conversation, her phone buzzed again. Kitty groaned, already bracing herself for another snarky message from Q. But when she glanced at the screen, her breath hitched.
Min Ho: I should start keeping score—how many times you roll your eyes at me per day. I think we hit a record.
Kitty: Delete my number.
Min Ho: Too late. Already memorized it.
Kitty: WHY.
Min Ho: Gotta keep tabs on my favorite source of entertainment.
Kitty: I’m blocking you.
Min Ho: No, you’re not.
Kitty: Watch me.
Min Ho: You’re still typing, Covey. Admit it, you’d miss me.
Kitty: I’d miss peace . I’d miss sanity . I’d miss the time before I knew you existed.
Min Ho: Ouch. That almost hurt.
Kitty: Good.
Min Ho: But it didn’t.
Kitty flopped onto her bed, staring at her phone with narrowed eyes. The audacity. The sheer nerve. Why did Min Ho always know exactly how to push her buttons? It was like he had a degree in How to Annoy Katherine Song Covey 101 .
With an annoyed huff, she typed furiously.
Kitty: You. Annoying. Smug. Infuriating.
The reply came almost instantly, like he had been waiting for her to text first.
Min Ho: Ohhh, so you mean charming, confident, devastatingly handsome?
Kitty resisted the urge to throw her phone at the wall.
Kitty: I mean insufferable.
Min Ho: Insufferably handsome? Yeah, I get that a lot.
She clenched her jaw. Why did he always twist her words like this?
Kitty: I’d rather admit I enjoy stepping on Legos.
Min Ho: Kinky, but okay.
Her eyes nearly popped out of her skull.
Kitty: OH MY GOD—STOP.
Min Ho: You started it, Covey. I was gonna say you looked nice today, but then I remembered—your true glow comes out when you’re absolutely seething. Stunning, really.
Kitty inhaled sharply. She was not flattered. Not even a little.
Kitty: Wow. So flattered. Should I start raging more often, just for you?
Min Ho: I mean, if you want to keep me entertained.
Kitty: Oh, so now I exist purely for your amusement?
Min Ho: Pretty much. But hey, you do it so naturally.
She let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a groan and a scream.
Kitty: I hate you.
Min Ho: You keep saying that, and yet… you’re still texting me.
Kitty: Because I’m trying to win.
Min Ho: Win what? Our undeniable chemistry?
Kitty rolled her eyes. Of course, he’d bring that up—like Yuri’s comment earlier wasn’t embarrassing enough, now Min Ho was milking it for all it was worth.
Kitty: Win the battle of who blocks who first.
Min Ho: Aww, Covey. I’d be heartbroken.
She could practically hear the smirk through the screen.
Kitty: Try me.
Min Ho: You’re all talk, no action, Covey. Admit it—you’d miss me.
Kitty let out a deep exhale, squeezing her phone like it had personally wronged her.
Kitty: I’m leaving.
Min Ho: Sleep tight, Covey. Don’t let me haunt your dreams.
Kitty let out a strangled noise, gripping her phone so tight her fingers ached. He was impossible. Absolutely impossible.
***
The new semester had been in full swing for nearly a month now. Some things were going smoothly, others… not so much. Kitty had no trouble keeping up in subjects like English and literature, but chemistry, history, and especially Korean were proving to be a challenge. If she wanted to maintain her grades—and, more importantly, her scholarship—she had to put in extra effort.
So, she did.
She asked more questions in class, dragged her friends into discussions, and even started reading academic journals in her free time. But the biggest shift in her routine? She had become a regular visitor to the library. Sometimes she came with a group, but more often than not, she preferred to study alone. Fewer distractions. More focus.
Today was one of those days.
Kitty pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the library, immediately greeted by the familiar scent of aged paper and the faint vanilla aroma of polished bookshelves. It wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. The place was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of pages and the hushed whispers of students scattered across the room.
Exactly what she needed.
A refuge from the ever-present chaos of the dorms, where music, laughter, and conversations made it impossible to concentrate. Here, there were no blaring speakers from a neighboring room. No impromptu dance battles in the hallway. No one yelling about stolen snacks or who left their laundry in the machine too long.
Just peace.
Kitty let out a slow breath and made her way toward her usual corner, determined to get some real studying done.
But as she stepped further inside, fate, as always, had other plans.
Min Ho.
He was lounging at one of the study tables near the window, bathed in the golden afternoon sunlight like some kind of effortlessly photogenic movie scene. His laptop sat open in front of him, but it was clear he wasn’t actually working—his fingers lazily scrolled on the trackpad, his posture relaxed in that frustratingly smug way only he could pull off. He looked like he belonged in an editorial spread rather than a school library, with his perfectly styled hair, sharp jawline, and an air of confidence that was both infuriating and impossible to ignore.
Kitty stopped in her tracks, gripping her books tighter as irritation twisted in her stomach. Of course, he was here. Because fate clearly had a personal vendetta against her.
“Oh, great,” she muttered under her breath.
Unfortunately for her, Min Ho’s hearing was annoyingly sharp. His gaze flicked up, and the moment he spotted her, his lips curled into that signature smirk—cocky, amused, and, as always, insufferable.
“Wow,” he drawled, stretching back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. “Covey, in the library? Did hell freeze over, or did you finally realize that passing on pure stubbornness isn’t a real academic strategy?”
Kitty narrowed her eyes and strode over to the table across from him, dropping her books with a loud thud—a silent protest against the sheer audacity of Min Ho existing in the same space as her.
“Unlike some people, I actually have to work hard,” she said sharply. “I don’t have rich parents who can bribe my way into good grades.”
Min Ho placed a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know my grades are impeccable. Beauty and brains—it’s truly a burden.”
Kitty scoffed, eyeing him with clear skepticism. “Right. And I’m sure you totally aced math by charming your way through the word problems.”
Min Ho smirked. “What can I say? Numbers love me. Just like people do.”
Kitty rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure your calculator is completely smitten.”
Min Ho leaned forward slightly, his smirk deepening. “Jealous, Covey? Don’t worry, I have enough charm for you too.”
Kitty groaned. “Ugh. I’d rather befriend the calculator.”
Min Ho leaned back, his smirk widening. “Suit yourself. Just don’t be surprised when even the calculator finds you difficult.”
Kitty let out a long, suffering sigh, already regretting her decision to sit here. She should have picked another table—maybe even another building.
“Min Ho,” she said, rubbing her temples, “just pretend I don’t exist.”
Min Ho leaned back in his chair, completely at ease. “Impossible,” he said casually. “You have a way of making your presence known. Loudly.”
Kitty shot him a murderous glare. “I haven’t even spoken for five minutes.”
“And I’m already annoyed,” he replied smugly, lifting an eyebrow. “A new record, Covey.”
Kitty grabbed her book aggressively and flipped it open with unnecessary force, as if that would somehow stop Min Ho from being insufferable. Of course, that was wishful thinking.
Min Ho tilted his head, watching her frustration with pure amusement. “What are you even studying?” he asked lazily. “How to accept defeat more gracefully?”
Kitty snapped her book shut and pointed her pen at him. “If I stab you with this, would it count as self-defense?”
Min Ho grinned. “Go ahead, Darling . I’ll even give you a lesson on proper stabbing technique.”
Kitty clenched her jaw and forced herself to ignore him. She flipped open her textbook, trailing her finger along the words in an attempt to focus. But it was impossible. Min Ho’s gaze was on her—steady, expectant—like he was waiting, hoping , for her to react, to snap.
The air between them buzzed with a familiar tension. This was their default—constant bickering, veiled insults, a friction neither of them cared to acknowledge. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he got under her skin.
Just as she was beginning to lose herself in her notes, a familiar voice cut through the charged silence.
"Hey, Kitty. Didn’t expect to see you here."
She looked up to see Jin standing beside the table, his expression unreadable. As Q’s boyfriend and a fellow athlete, Jin was naturally part of their circle, making him somewhat close to Kitty by association. Most of the time, their interactions were easy and natural—but sometimes, like now, the air between them felt slightly different. Not quite awkward, but not entirely effortless either.
Min Ho, on the other hand, hadn’t liked Jin at first. Maybe it was Jin’s calm, unshakable demeanor that rubbed him the wrong way, or maybe it was just Min Ho’s habit of being wary of new people. Either way, he had initially found Jin irritating. But after Jin apologized—for things that weren’t even entirely his fault—and considering the fact that he was now dating Min Ho’s best friend, Min Ho had decided to make peace with it. They weren’t close , not by any means, but at least Min Ho no longer felt the urge to roll his eyes every time Jin was around. If there was any lingering tension, it wasn’t from hostility—just remnants of the past that hadn’t completely faded.
Kitty, however, had never had an issue with Jin. He wasn’t her best friend, but he wasn’t someone she disliked either. He was kind enough, considerate enough, and had never given her a reason to hate him.
"Yeah, well, some of us actually study ," Kitty replied, offering a small smile. "What about you? I thought you and Q had practice."
"Got canceled," Jin said, shoving his hands into his pockets. His eyes flickered between her and Min Ho, clearly sensing the charged atmosphere. "You two… okay?"
Min Ho scoffed, leaning back in his chair with that infuriating smirk.
"Oh, absolutely. Covey and I were just discussing a fascinating phenomenon—how someone so small can still manage to take up an entire room with her voice."
Kitty shot him a glare. "More like you were being insufferable as usual."
"Oh, come on, darling ," Min Ho drawled, dragging out the word like it was his personal weapon. "You do have a tendency to narrate your entire thought process out loud. I’m just trying to save the library from an unsolicited TED Talk."
Kitty slammed her pen onto the table, the sharp thud earning a few startled glances from nearby students. Someone coughed pointedly. The librarian, a strict woman with reading glasses perched on the edge of her nose, shot them a warning look from her desk.
"Excuse me for having thoughts, Min Ho. Must be such a foreign concept to you."
Min Ho placed a hand over his heart, feigning deep offense. "Oh, the cruelty! And here I thought you appreciated my brilliant insights."
"I appreciate silence more."
Jin blinked, his gaze darting between them like he was watching a high-speed tennis match. “Uh… do you guys always talk like this?”
“Like what?” Kitty and Min Ho responded at the same time, immediately turning to glare at each other.
Jin opened his mouth, then closed it. “Never mind.”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right. Well, Q’s waiting for me, but we’re grabbing food later if you wanna join.”
Kitty hesitated, her fingers tapping lightly against her book. Before she could answer, Min Ho spoke up first.
“Oh, come on, Jin. You know Covey only eats meals sprinkled with judgment and righteousness.”
Kitty snapped her book shut with a loud thud , the sound echoing through the quiet library. “You know what? I will join you, Jin. Anything to get away from this guy .”
For the briefest second—so quick she almost missed it—Min Ho’s smirk faltered. Just a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. But it was enough to make her wonder.
Jin hesitated, idly tapping his fingers against the table. “Actually, I was thinking of trying that new iced matcha latte they just added to the menu.”
Kitty perked up, intrigued. “Oh, I heard about that! The café finally updated their drinks. Might give it a shot.”
Before Jin could respond, Min Ho let out an incredulous scoff. “Wait—since when do you drink matcha?”
Kitty frowned at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Min Ho leaned against the bookshelf, arms crossed, his signature smirk beginning to form. “You don’t like matcha. Last time you tried it, you said—and I quote—‘it tastes like liquid grass.’”
Jin raised an eyebrow, looking between them. “What?”
Kitty stiffened for half a second before masking it with indifference. He remembered that? She had completely forgotten—or at least, she had tried to. But now, the memory came rushing back, vivid and annoyingly clear.
Last semester, back when they were still sharing a dorm, Min Ho had made her an iced matcha himself. He had been weirdly insistent, boasting that his was the best in the entire dorm. And despite her skepticism, she had taken a sip. One sip. And immediately gagged.
Min Ho had looked half-offended, half-amused as she shoved the cup back at him with dramatic disgust, declaring it tasted like liquid grass.
Shoving the memory aside, she lifted her chin and met his gaze head-on. There was no way she was letting him win this conversation.
“Well,” she said evenly, “starting now, I’m giving matcha another chance.”
Min Ho’s eyes narrowed, his expression that of someone who had just heard the funniest thing all day. Then, his smirk stretched wider, a knowing gleam lighting up his gaze.
“Unbelievable.” He shook his head, slow and deliberate. “What is this, short-term memory loss, or do you just hate being wrong?”
Kitty glared. “Min Ho. That was one time.”
“And once was enough. ” His smirk deepened. “You reacted like I poisoned you.”
“You shoved it in my face!”
“It was a taste test! ”
“It was forced! ”
Jin, still clutching his book, glanced between them, his brow furrowed in growing confusion. “Okay… what exactly is happening here?”
Neither of them so much as glanced his way.
Kitty folded her arms across her chest, lifting her chin in defiance. Min Ho, in contrast, looked effortlessly relaxed—like he could go on like this forever and enjoy every second of it. But his eyes, sharp and knowing, practically glowed with satisfaction.
Kitty placed a hand on her hip, narrowing her eyes. "Why do you always have to be like this?"
Min Ho shrugged. "Like what?"
"Like—" Kitty cut herself off, letting out a frustrated huff. "Never mind."
Min Ho let out a quiet chuckle, clearly reveling in how easily he got under her skin.
Jin cleared his throat, attempting to break whatever this was. "So… are we still getting coffee, or do you guys plan on arguing here until the library closes?"
Kitty exhaled sharply, as if just now remembering Jin was even there. "Let’s go, Jin."
Min Ho grinned. "Yeah, just run away, Covey." His voice was almost teasing, but there was something else beneath it—something unreadable.
Kitty threw him a sharp glare before turning on her heel. But even as she walked away, she could still feel Min Ho’s gaze burning into her back, like he wasn’t quite done with this. And the most annoying part? She had no idea why that bothered her so much.
Jin blinked, looking between them as if trying to solve an equation that refused to make sense. He opened his mouth—then closed it. Nope. Not his business.
As they left, he muttered under his breath, "Are they fighting or flirting?"
And honestly? He wasn’t sure which answer was more concerning.