Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sun was just starting to set over the Hirai household, casting a soft glow through the living room windows. Momo sat cross-legged on the floor, furiously clicking away on her game controller, a bag of chips resting against her thigh.

“Can you not rage every time you lose?” Nayeon’s voice came from the couch above her. “It’s hurting my delicate ears.”

“Then go home,” Momo muttered, not even looking up from the screen.

“Can’t,” Nayeon said casually, reaching into the chips. “This is my second home now. Your parents basically love me.”

“No, they just feel sorry for you.”

Nayeon grinned. “Still counts.”

It was true—Nayeon was practically a permanent fixture in their house. Ever since elementary school, she’d been Momo’s loud, dramatic best friend. By now, she knew where the spare key was hidden, what drawer the good snacks were in, and how to tune out Momo’s rants with the skill of a seasoned warrior.

“Hey, speaking of things you love,” Nayeon said with a smirk, lifting her head toward the hallway, “look who it is.”

Mina walked past, heading toward the kitchen in a fluffy white hoodie and mismatched socks, completely unbothered.

Nayeon stretched her arms behind her head and called out in a sing-song tone:
“Oh hey, babygirl.”

Mina paused. Not enough to make it obvious—but Nayeon saw the flicker of a head tilt. Mina looked over her shoulder, expression blank.

“…Hi, unnie.”

And then she disappeared around the corner.

Momo slammed the pause button on her game.

“Can you not flirt with my sister for five minutes?!”

“What? I was just saying hi,” Nayeon replied, feigning innocence.

“With a nickname that sounds like it belongs in a fanfic!”

Nayeon’s grin widened. “Maybe it is. Maybe I’m writing it in my head right now.”

“You’re impossible,” Momo groaned, flopping onto her back.

From the kitchen, a soft clinking of ice cubes and glass echoed.

Nayeon looked at the ceiling, smug. “Your sister’s cute. You should be happy someone appreciates that.”

“She’s my sister, not your plaything!”

“And yet,” Nayeon said, sitting up dramatically, “she continues to exist. In my line of vision. Looking like that.”

“You’re literally insane.”

“And you love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

✿

The kitchen was quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the clink of ice as Mina stirred her drink. She moved with practiced silence, clearly used to coexisting with chaos without being part of it. Her hoodie sleeves nearly covered her hands as she poured soda into her glass and stirred absentmindedly.

From the living room, voices echoed—mostly Momo yelling and Nayeon being her usual dramatic self.

“Seriously, I can’t leave you alone for one second without you turning into a flirt machine,” Momo grumbled.

“Oh please,” Nayeon said, her tone light, “I’ve always been a flirt machine. You're just jealous I don’t call you babygirl.”

Momo made a sound like she was being personally attacked by god.

Mina exhaled through her nose, barely a smile, barely audible, but definitely there. She turned off the kitchen light and walked back into the living room with her drink in hand.

As expected, Nayeon was now lying completely sideways on the couch, legs draped over the armrest, head hanging off the other end like she had no bones in her body.

Mina quietly approached the armchair, but before she could sit—

“Hey, babygirl.”

Nayeon’s voice came without looking, like instinct. Like the name belonged to Mina now.

Mina paused mid-sit. She gave Nayeon a look—neutral, as always—but the slight twitch at the corner of her lips gave her away. She lowered herself into the armchair, curling her legs up beside her.

“Hi,” she said, not bothering to hide the faint amusement in her voice.

Momo, who was half-sitting on the carpet, flung a small cushion at Nayeon.

“Can you not flirt with her in front of me? I’m right here. Breathing. Existing.”

“I flirt with everyone,” Nayeon replied lazily, catching the pillow with one hand. “It’s a love language.”

Mina sipped her drink, looking utterly unbothered.

“Pretty sure calling someone ‘babygirl’ isn’t a universal love language,” Momo snapped. “It’s a you language.”

Nayeon grinned. “Exactly. It’s a me-to-Mina language.”

Momo looked like she was going to combust.

“You’re the worst.”

“And yet, here I am,” Nayeon said, folding her hands behind her head. “Still invited to movie night. Still your best friend. Still incredibly charming.”

Momo turned to Mina like she was seeking backup.

“Please say something. Anything. Tell her to stop.”

Mina blinked slowly. Then she turned her attention to the TV screen.

“…I thought we were watching a movie.”

Momo let out a strangled noise.

Nayeon laughed—genuine and bright. “See? She likes me.”

Mina didn’t respond, but she reached for the remote and started browsing Netflix.

Her ears were slightly pink.

❀

The movie had been playing for twenty minutes. Something vaguely action-y. Momo was invested, half-yelling at the screen every few minutes like the characters could hear her. Nayeon, not so much.

Nayeon had shifted again—now sitting upright on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her and her eyes not on the screen, but on Mina.

Mina, who was still curled up on the armchair, blanket draped around her shoulders, soda glass resting on the coffee table. Her face was passive, but every now and then, her eyes flicked toward Nayeon like she knew she was being watched.

Nayeon grinned, resting her chin on her hand.

“So, Mina,” she said during a quiet part of the film, voice casual but laced with teasing, “if you had to pick—would you say I’m charming, or dangerously charming?”

Mina didn’t even look at her. “Delusional.”

“Oof,” Momo cackled from the floor.

But Nayeon didn’t seem fazed. If anything, she looked pleased.

“She didn’t say no,” Nayeon said, eyes twinkling.

Momo let out a groan and tossed a stray sock at her.

“Why do I let you in this house?”

“Because I’m sunshine in human form.”

“You’re mold in human form.”

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Momo.”

As they bickered, Mina reached for the remote to lower the volume a bit. She didn’t say anything, but her lips twitched again—barely a smirk, barely a reaction, but Nayeon saw it.

Nayeon’s grin widened. She shifted slightly, leaning closer.

“Mina,” she whispered, just loud enough for her to hear over the movie. “You smiled.”

“No, I didn’t,” Mina replied flatly.

“You did. It was microscopic, but I caught it.”

Mina didn’t respond. She picked up her drink and took a slow sip—calm, cool, unbothered. But the tips of her ears were, once again, just the faintest bit pink.

Nayeon nudged Momo with her foot. “You seeing this? I’m winning her over.”

“You’re hallucinating,” Momo muttered.

“No, I’m manifesting.”

Mina finally turned her head, making direct eye contact with Nayeon. Her tone was calm, but her words came out slower this time—measured.

“You talk too much.”

Nayeon blinked. “That wasn’t a no either.”

Mina raised one brow, then turned back to the screen.

Momo sat up straight. “Wait. Wait, wait—are you two actually flirting now? In front of me?!”

“Technically,” Nayeon said, smug, “she flirted back. I’m just vibing.”

“I hate this timeline,” Momo muttered, flopping back down on the floor like she’d been betrayed by the universe.

Nayeon chuckled under her breath. She leaned back on the couch, satisfied. It wasn’t much—but Mina had met her halfway, even just a little.

And Nayeon could live off just a little—for now.

✿

The movie rolled on, but the room had long since lost its original focus. Momo was now half-asleep on the floor, snuggled up with a pillow and a bag of almost-empty popcorn. The dim light from the TV cast shadows on her face, and every so often, she’d twitch in reaction to a loud sound from the movie.

Nayeon, however, hadn’t looked at the screen in a solid ten minutes. Her eyes had slowly wandered—back to the quiet girl in the armchair.

Mina had shifted too, resting her head against the back of the seat, her blanket now tucked under her chin. Her eyes looked soft, not tired, but… peaceful. And Nayeon found herself watching her again—not in the usual teasing way, but slower. Still. Studying.

Mina felt it.

“What?” she asked without looking away from the screen.

Nayeon blinked, startled slightly. “What?”

“You’re staring.”

“I’m admiring,” Nayeon corrected, trying to pull on her usual grin. But it came out smaller this time. Not as cocky. “You’re pretty when you're quiet like this.”

That got Mina to look at her.

Not with her usual deadpan, not with that unreadable blankness—but with something a bit softer. Cautious. Caught off guard.

“...You're weird,” Mina said finally, but her voice lacked its usual flatness.

Nayeon tilted her head. “You think I’m joking?”

“Aren’t you always?” Mina countered.

Nayeon didn’t answer. For once, she didn’t know what to say. That flicker in Mina’s eyes — the hesitance, the vulnerability — it made her chest tighten in a way she wasn’t expecting.

So she leaned back, but not before offering a quieter line.

“You flinched.”

Mina blinked. “What?”

“You flinched when I called you pretty,” Nayeon said, resting her cheek on the back of her hand. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you react like that.”

Mina stared at her.

Momo groaned loudly in her sleep. “Can you two flirt quieter, I’m trying to die here.”

Mina looked away immediately, cheeks flushing as she sank deeper into her blanket. But Nayeon saw it—the blush. The real one. Not just a little pink on her ears. Full-on, “I hate that you noticed me blushing” blush.

Victory buzzed in Nayeon’s chest.

But it also made her feel… something else.

Less like she was winning a game. More like she was learning a secret.

She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling too wide.

“Relax,” she murmured. “I’ll go back to calling you ‘babygirl’ if it makes it less serious.”

Mina didn’t answer.

But her hands gripped the blanket just a little tighter.

❀

The movie’s credits were rolling now, white text gliding over black as soft orchestral music played in the background. Momo was fully asleep on the carpet, one arm flung over her face, the other still loosely holding a half-empty bag of popcorn.

Nayeon glanced at her and snorted. “She’s going to wake up with neck pain and blame me for it.”

From the armchair, Mina stretched her legs out, blanket falling off her lap as she slowly stood. She moved to the kitchen without a word, her now-empty glass in hand. Her movements were quiet, graceful in the way that Nayeon had always found mildly hypnotizing.

Without thinking too hard about it, Nayeon followed her.

Mina was at the sink, rinsing her glass when she felt Nayeon behind her. She didn’t turn around, just said plainly:

“You’re following me.”

“I am,” Nayeon said, leaning against the counter. “Didn’t want the night to end.”

Mina raised a brow. “It’s a movie night. Not a date.”

Nayeon smirked. “Could be.”

This time, Mina turned to look at her, eyes narrowed in quiet amusement. “You’re relentless.”

“You’re pretty,” Nayeon replied, then tilted her head. “Dangerous combination, you know. Quiet and pretty. Makes me say things I shouldn’t.”

Mina didn’t respond right away.

Then—

“Then stop saying them,” she said softly.

But there was no heat in her voice. No irritation. Just… something unsure. Vulnerable. Testing the waters.

Nayeon paused, her usual cocky retorts dying in her throat.

She studied Mina’s face. The calm mask was still there, but the slight downturn at the corners of her lips, the faint pink lingering in her cheeks, the way her fingers nervously tapped the counter—Nayeon saw all of it.

“I could stop,” Nayeon said, voice gentler now. “But you don’t want me to.”

That made Mina look at her. Really look.

Silence stretched between them like a held breath.

“…You’re annoying,” Mina said eventually.

“But not wrong,” Nayeon replied, smiling.

Mina turned back to the sink, but her ears were fully red now. She dried her hands and brushed past Nayeon to head back to the living room—without another word.

But right before she reached the doorway, she paused. Just for a second.

Then, without looking back—

“Goodnight… unnie.”

Not babygirl. Not teasing. Just a soft, almost shy acknowledgment.

Nayeon watched her leave, feeling a strange warmth spread in her chest. It was unfamiliar. Dangerous, even.

Because for the first time in years of knowing the Hirais, Nayeon realized something important:

This might’ve started as a joke—but she was in trouble now.

Big, heart-thumping, can't-look-away, definitely-liking-her trouble.

She looked down at the tile floor and smiled to herself.

“Goodnight, babygirl.”

Chapter Text

Sunday afternoon at the Hirai household was unusually quiet—at least, until Nayeon walked in.

She didn’t knock. She never did. The front door creaked open with its usual welcome groan, and she stepped in like she owned the place, balancing a small plastic bag in one hand.

“Momo! I brought snacks!” she called out, kicking off her shoes at the door.

“Living room!” Momo shouted back.

Nayeon followed the sound, tossing the bag onto the couch as she entered. Momo was curled up in her usual blanket cocoon, half-watching a drama rerun, half-scrolling on her phone. She barely glanced up.

“What’d you bring?” she mumbled.

“Nothing for you,” Nayeon said sweetly, already fishing through the plastic bag. “This is for Mina.”

Momo’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?”

At that exact moment, Mina appeared from the hallway, hair pulled back in a loose bun, wearing a simple oversized white shirt and shorts. She looked like she’d just woken up from a nap—calm, soft-eyed, effortless.

“Speak of the devil,” Nayeon said, turning to face her. She pulled out a small bag of strawberry candies and held one between her fingers.

“Hey, babygirl.”
Her tone was low, teasing, just slightly drawn out.

Mina blinked, not fully alert yet. She padded closer.

“What is that?”

“Your favorite,” Nayeon said with a smile. She unwrapped one slowly, held it out with two fingers, palm up, like she was offering gold.

“Open up, babygirl.”

There was a pause. A short one—but loaded.

Mina looked at her. Then at the candy. Then back at her.

She didn’t say anything. She just leaned forward slightly, lips parting, and let Nayeon pop the candy into her mouth.

The moment lasted barely two seconds.

But in those two seconds:

• Nayeon held her breath without realizing it.
• Momo sat up like she was witnessing a murder.
• And Mina… blinked once, cheeks turning a shade pinker than they had any right to be.

She turned without a word and walked straight toward the kitchen.

Momo gawked. “What the actual hell just happened.”

Nayeon grinned, slow and triumphant. “I fed her candy.”

“You FED her candy,” Momo repeated like she was summoning demons.

“I’m just being nice.”

“That was not nice! That was criminal! You said open up! Like you were in a drama!”

“She listened,” Nayeon shrugged, picking up the remote and flopping down beside her. “She wanted it.”

“I don’t know who you are anymore.”

Nayeon just laughed and tossed Momo a bag of chips to shut her up.

POV Shift – Mina

The kitchen felt cooler, quieter.

Mina leaned over the counter, hands pressed to the cool granite surface. She was chewing the candy, slowly, deliberately, trying to ignore how her ears still felt warm.

It’s not a big deal.
It’s just candy.
She does this to everyone.

But Nayeon hadn’t fed anyone else candy before. Not like that.

Mina let out a small breath, unsure if it was a sigh or a laugh. Her fingers lifted unconsciously to her lips.

Nayeon had touched them.

And for some reason, her heart was still beating too fast.

She reached into the fridge for cold water, drank half the bottle, then stared at her reflection in the toaster oven door.

“You’re being weird,” she muttered to herself.

But even as she said it, she knew something had shifted.

And she wasn’t sure she hated it.

✿

Mina returned to the living room five minutes later, her face calm and unreadable as ever.

To the untrained eye, nothing had changed. But Momo? Momo had known her sister since birth—and she knew something was off.

Mina sat on the far end of the couch, legs crossed, phone in hand. She scrolled like nothing had happened.

Momo stared at her. Hard.

Mina didn’t acknowledge it.

Nayeon, meanwhile, sat between them, lounging like the smug chaos she was, still eating chips like she hadn’t just fed someone’s little sister a strawberry candy with a voice like velvet.

Momo broke first.

“So. Candy.”

Mina blinked, not looking up. “Yeah?”

“You just… let her feed it to you?”

“I was hungry.”

“You weren’t!”

Mina finally looked at her. “Then I guess I was curious.”

Momo stared in disbelief. “Curious?! What is this, a romance webtoon?!”

Nayeon chuckled under her breath. “Should be.”

Momo whipped her head toward her. “You. Stop talking. You don’t get to speak right now.”

“I literally brought the candy.”

“YOU BROUGHT THE TROUBLE!”

Mina tapped at her phone like this was none of her business, despite being the main subject. But Momo noticed the corner of her lip twitching, like she was holding back a smile.

That was the final straw.

“Okay, no,” Momo said, grabbing the remote and pausing the TV. “We are going to talk about this. Because you—” she pointed at Mina, “—are blushing.”

“I’m not.”

“You were.”

Mina tilted her head slightly. “Only because I was chewing. It’s warm.”

“You never blush.”

“Then maybe you’re imagining it.”

Momo turned to Nayeon in exasperation, but stopped short. Because Nayeon wasn’t smirking anymore.

She was looking at Mina—softly. Curiously. Almost… seriously.

Momo squinted. “You okay, Nayeon?”

Nayeon blinked out of it. “Yeah. Yeah, fine.”

But she wasn’t fine. Not really.

Because that look on Mina’s face? That little smirk she hid behind her phone, that slight flush in her cheeks, the way she let Nayeon feed her that candy?

It wasn’t part of the game anymore.

It was something else.

Something real.

Nayeon cleared her throat. “You’re all acting like I proposed to her or something. It was just a candy.”

Mina finally looked up again. Calm. Quiet. But her gaze was sharp now.

“You’ve never done that to anyone else.”

It landed like a pin drop in a silent room.

Even Momo was caught off guard.

Nayeon’s mouth opened a little, words caught behind her tongue.

Mina held her gaze for one more second, then went back to her phone like she hadn’t just lit a fire in the middle of the couch.

Momo slowly turned to Nayeon, stunned. “...She got you back.”

“She didn’t—” Nayeon tried to say.

“She did! You’re losing your edge!”

“I am not losing my edge!”

Momo pointed dramatically. “You're flustered.”

“I’m not flustered!”

“You’re red, unnie.”

Nayeon groaned, dragging a pillow over her face.

Mina scrolled calmly beside her, victorious in silence.

And for the first time, Nayeon realized:

Maybe Mina wasn’t just quietly amused by her flirting.

Maybe Mina was playing the long game.

❀

Mina wasn’t the type to fluster easily.

Years of growing up with a sister like Momo—who regularly screamed over dance videos, fell off chairs laughing, and narrated her own life like she was in a drama—meant Mina learned early on how to zone out chaos. To observe, not absorb.

But today?

Today was different.

She sat on her bed, knees drawn up to her chest, phone resting blankly in her hand. She had rewatched the same one-minute cat video three times and had no idea what happened in it.

Because her mind was stuck on her.

Nayeon.

Nayeon and her stupid strawberry candy. Her dumb, smug face. That voice.

"Open up, babygirl."

Mina groaned into her knees.

Her face wasn’t burning now, but the heat still lingered in her chest, like a spark that hadn’t quite gone out.

It didn’t make sense.

Nayeon was always like that—teasing, shameless, loud. She flirted like it was breathing. Mina never gave her the satisfaction of reacting. Not really. A smirk here, an eyebrow raise there, maybe a sarcastic “wow.”

But today… Mina had reacted.

Worse, she had reacted without meaning to.

And Nayeon noticed.

Mina exhaled slowly and fell back onto her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her room was quiet, a stark contrast to the way her thoughts buzzed and overlapped.

It was just candy.

Right?

She replayed the moment again in her head—Nayeon holding out the sweet, the grin on her lips lazy and confident, like she knew Mina would take it. And Mina had. She hadn't even hesitated.

Why didn’t she hesitate?

Mina rubbed her temples.

She didn’t like her. That way. Right?

She didn’t even really know what that meant. Crushes were never her thing. Momo once said Mina was “romantically allergic.” And maybe that was true—nothing ever really stirred her. Boys. Girls. Anyone. She just… didn’t feel much.

Until now.

Now she couldn’t stop thinking about a piece of strawberry candy and the way Nayeon said her name like it was a private joke. Or a promise.

And that was annoying.

So annoying.

A knock at her door startled her. “Mina? You okay?” It was Momo.

“I’m fine,” Mina called out, too quickly.

“You’ve been in there a while.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated, more calmly this time.

A pause. Then Momo sighed. “Okay, but Nayeon made popcorn and she’s annoying me. Come out when you're ready.”

Mina waited until Momo's footsteps faded.

Then she turned her head into her pillow and whispered—

“Babygirl? Seriously?”

Her face flushed again.

And this time, she let it.

Just for a second.

Because she wasn’t sure yet what it meant.

But her heart?

Her heart was starting to figure it out before she could stop it.

✿

Nayeon was back on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, arms stretched lazily over the cushions. A bowl of popcorn sat on her lap, half-eaten. Momo was on the floor again, legs splayed out like a ragdoll, grumbling about a busted phone charger.

But Nayeon wasn’t really listening.

Not to Momo. Not to the TV. Not even to the crunch of popcorn she kept eating just to give her hands something to do.

Because Mina still hadn’t come out of her room.

It had been almost an hour since the candy incident—an hour since Mina’s ears turned pink and she fled the room in suspicious silence. And Nayeon was still thinking about it.

She wasn’t supposed to be.

This was supposed to be fun.

Tease. Fluster. Win.
That was the game.

It had always been the game.

Flirting was second nature to Nayeon, especially with Mina—because Mina never gave her anything. And that was the point. The challenge. The chase.

But now?

Now, Mina was giving her something. Something small. Subtle.

A look. A blush. A response.

And Nayeon… didn’t know what to do with it.

She found herself staring blankly at the popcorn bowl, her mind replaying Mina’s voice from earlier:

“You’ve never done that to anyone else.”

It echoed in her chest. Not accusing. Not teasing. Just... observant. And for some reason, it hit harder than any of Momo’s dramatic rants ever had.

Because Mina was right.

Nayeon had never flirted like that with anyone else. Not like this. Not with intention. Not with focus. Not with candy and nicknames and hoping someone would look back and see her, not just laugh it off.

She was in trouble.

“You’re doing it again,” Momo said suddenly.

Nayeon blinked. “Doing what?”

“Staring into space like you just realized you’re in love with my sister.”

“I am not in love with your sister.”

Momo raised an eyebrow. “You fed her a candy like you were proposing.”

“It was one time.”

“She blushed.”

“She blushes at temperature changes.”

“She left the room like you set her on fire.”

“She was just overwhelmed by my charm.”

Momo stared at her, unimpressed. “You’re rattled.”

Nayeon opened her mouth to respond—then closed it.

Because yeah. She was.

She couldn’t stop thinking about how Mina’s lips had parted when she leaned forward. How her eyes had flicked up to meet Nayeon’s like she was daring her to take it one step further. How she’d walked away not flustered, but thinking.

And Nayeon wasn’t used to her being the one left behind, wondering what it meant.

“You like her,” Momo said, mouth full of popcorn.

Nayeon stared at her. “Don’t.”

“You do,” Momo said with a smirk. “And now you’re spiraling. I’ve never seen you spiral.”

“I’m not spiraling. I’m—” Nayeon stopped. “...evaluating.”

Momo threw a pillow at her head.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re annoying,” Nayeon muttered.

But her voice was quieter now. And as she turned her head toward the hallway, she found herself wondering—

If I kissed her, would she kiss me back?

And more importantly—

Do I actually want her to?

❀

Mina sat on her bed, legs crossed, back pressed against the headboard, earbuds in.

Lo-fi music hummed softly in her ears, but it wasn’t helping.

Her phone sat untouched on her lap. A book lay open beside her, unread. And her fingers kept tapping her thigh in an uncharacteristic, restless rhythm.

She was spiraling. Silently. Inwardly. Elegantly.

But spiraling nonetheless.

All because of her.

Nayeon.

Mina groaned softly and dropped her head back against the wall.

It was stupid. Just a joke. Nayeon always flirted. She flirted with everyone—strangers, waiters, Momo’s math teacher once. That didn’t mean anything.

But this… felt different.

Because for the first time, Mina reacted.

Her ears burned again just thinking about it.

And worse, she took the candy. Opened her mouth and let Nayeon press it to her lips like it was normal. Like she was used to being fed affection in the form of sugar and pet names.

She wasn’t used to that.

And Nayeon hadn’t looked smug at first. She’d looked—something else.

Focused.

Eyes lingering a little too long. Smile tugging at the corners of her lips like she was enjoying it more than she should.

It was just teasing… right?

Mina shook her head. She didn’t know anymore.

She’d always been good at staying unreadable. Quiet. Unbothered. But when Nayeon said that? Looked at her like that?

Something cracked.

Her heartbeat had stuttered.

She hated that. Or at least, she thought she should.

There was a knock at the door.

Mina froze. Only one person knocked like that—three quick taps, followed by a beat of silence and a fourth, like a punctuation mark.

Nayeon.

Of course.

“Hey.” Nayeon’s voice was muffled but warm. “You okay?”

Mina stared at the door. Her instinct was to stay quiet, pretend she didn’t hear.

But her mouth betrayed her.

“Yeah. Just… reading.”

A pause.

“Cool. Just checking. Sorry if I was too much earlier.”

Mina blinked. That wasn’t the usual teasing tone. It was careful. Almost sincere.

She stood, almost on autopilot, and opened the door just a sliver.

Nayeon was leaning against the frame, arms crossed, eyes softer than Mina had expected. She wasn’t smirking. She wasn’t smug.

She looked… unsure.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” she said quietly.

Mina studied her. Then, finally, shook her head.

“You didn’t,” she said, voice just above a whisper.

Nayeon raised a brow. “No?”

Mina held her gaze, heartbeat thudding.

“No.”

A beat passed.

And then Nayeon smiled—small, genuine, barely there.

“Okay,” she said, stepping back. “Goodnight, babygirl.”

Mina’s cheeks flushed instantly.

She shut the door quickly before Nayeon could see, heart racing all over again.

She leaned her forehead against the wood and let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

She was doomed.

And she kind of didn’t mind.

Chapter Text

Momo didn’t want to admit it, but she was slowly—visibly—losing her mind.

It started with her walking into the kitchen to find Nayeon feeding Mina a slice of peach, murmuring something sickening like, “Sweet for someone sweeter.” Mina had actually bit it. Without complaint. With direct eye contact.

The very next day, Momo taped a paper to the fridge.

“FLIRT-FREE ZONE.”
Written in red Sharpie. Underlined three times.

She watched as Nayeon peeled it off like it was a receipt and crumpled it with one hand.

“Sorry,” she smiled. “Didn’t realize we were in North Korea.”

That was strike one.

Now, it was Sunday. Laundry day. Peaceful, usually. Mina had just returned from ballet practice, hair still damp from her post-shower routine. Momo was folding shirts in the living room, trying to mind her business.

Enter: Nayeon.

Unannounced, as always, arms full of snacks and zero self-awareness.

“Movie night?” she chirped. “I brought strawberry milk for your ‘delicate soul,’ Mina.”

Momo gritted her teeth. “You need a hobby. A real one. One that doesn’t involve seducing my little sister.”

Nayeon dropped a bag of chips on the couch and flopped down beside Mina like she didn’t hear that.

“I have plenty of hobbies,” she said, kicking her feet up. “Flirting with Mina is just the most rewarding.”

Mina blinked slowly, expression unreadable—but Momo didn’t miss the way her hand reached for the strawberry milk without hesitation.

Strike two.

Momo stood, hands on her hips, officially done.

“Okay. New rule.” She raised a hand like a referee. “No flirting in shared spaces. The couch is Switzerland. This is neutral territory.”

Nayeon saluted mockingly. “Aye, Captain Buzzkill.”

“I’m serious,” Momo warned. “You’re messing with her head.”

She didn’t even wait for Mina to defend herself. Because she wouldn’t. She never did.

And maybe that was what scared Momo the most—Mina wasn’t fighting it anymore.

Not rolling her eyes. Not brushing Nayeon off with that cool, bored tone she’d perfected since middle school.

Now she was reacting. Blushing. Leaving the room when things got too much.

Nayeon had always flirted like it was a joke. But Momo was starting to wonder if she’d finally, accidentally, stepped into non-joke territory.

And worst of all?

Mina wasn’t running away from it.

She was starting to run toward it.

✿

The lights were dimmed. The only glow came from the TV screen and the occasional flash of Nayeon’s phone. The three of them were sunk into the living room couch: Momo on one end, arms crossed like a prison warden; Mina in the middle, curled under a blanket; and Nayeon, far too close for neutrality, on the other side.

A horror movie played, something with terrible jump scares and worse acting.

Momo had suggested it on purpose—hoping the mood would kill whatever flirty, glitter-coated agenda Nayeon had brought with her.

She was wrong.

A particularly loud screech echoed from the screen. Mina flinched.

Nayeon, without thinking, reached out and gently rested a hand on Mina’s knee beneath the blanket.

“You okay, babygirl?” she whispered, low and teasing.

Momo groaned audibly. “That’s it—I’m pausing this. Nayeon, what did I just say—”

But she stopped short.

Mina, who never flinched at teasing or broke her poker face, was slowly pulling the blanket up higher—to hide her blush. Her hands trembled. Not visibly, but enough for Momo to see it.

Nayeon noticed too.

Her smile faltered, just a little. “You’re shaking,” she said, this time with genuine curiosity.

Mina turned to her with wide eyes, caught in headlights. “I’m not,” she said quickly. “It’s just cold.”

“You weren’t cold five minutes ago.”

Nayeon leaned in closer, her hand still resting, thumb now moving slowly—absent-mindedly—against the side of Mina’s knee.

That was it.

Mina jerked up from the couch like she’d been burned. The blanket fell to the floor. She didn’t say a word—just bolted up the stairs and disappeared into her room, door clicking shut behind her.

The silence that followed was nuclear.

Momo whipped around, eyes blazing. “What the hell was that?”

Nayeon stared at the blanket.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“She’s not some toy, Nayeon. You can’t keep messing with her like this!”

“I’m not!” Nayeon snapped back. Then softer, more shaken: “I didn’t think she’d actually...”

Momo stood, livid. “That’s the problem. You don’t think.”

And with that, she left the room too, muttering something about “boundaries” and “ruined Sundays.”

Nayeon stayed frozen on the couch, heart pounding way too hard.

She hadn’t meant to push.

She just wanted Mina to smile. To tease her. To get a reaction.

But this—this was new. Mina running. Momo yelling.

And Nayeon, for the first time, sitting in the quiet, realizing maybe she wasn’t just playing around anymore.

❀

The Hirai living room was silent now, the horror movie long forgotten.

Nayeon hadn’t moved from her spot on the couch. The same spot Mina had left in a rush not ten minutes ago. Her fingers still hovered slightly over the throw blanket that now lay in a heap. It felt almost sacred now—like touching it again would be a betrayal.

She leaned back and stared at the ceiling, breathing shallow.

“What the hell just happened?” she murmured to no one.

She wasn’t used to feeling guilty. Flirting was harmless. Teasing Mina was a game. It was always a game. Mina never reacted—until she did.

And now that she had… Nayeon’s stomach was twisted in knots she didn’t know how to untangle.

The door to the kitchen creaked open. Momo re-entered the room, arms full of snacks she probably didn’t even want—just something to do to avoid talking.

Nayeon sat up. “Hey,” she started, but Momo didn’t look at her.

“You’re not coming to the family barbecue next weekend.”

Nayeon blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.” Momo tossed a bag of chips on the counter harder than necessary. “You’re officially banned until further notice.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Nayeon muttered, standing. “We always go to those together. Your mom already invited me—”

“Yeah, well, she didn’t see my little sister run off looking like she was about to cry.”

That shut her up.

Nayeon sat back down slowly, her voice quieter now. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“But you did.”

“I wasn’t trying to…” She trailed off. Her usual confidence—the smirks, the raised brows, the winked jabs—all of it drained from her face. “I just like making her laugh.”

Momo scoffed, finally turning around to face her. “You don’t flirt with someone that much unless you’re trying to get something.”

The air between them turned heavy. Nayeon swallowed.

What was she trying to get?

Mina’s attention? Her blushes? Her laugh?

Or... something more?

Momo softened a little. “Look, I love you, Nay. But I love her more. And if you're messing with her heart for fun, even if you don’t mean to… I need you to back off.”

Nayeon nodded slowly, eyes dropping to her lap. “Okay,” she said. “I get it.”

But the words tasted bitter. Like surrender.

As Momo walked past her to head upstairs, Nayeon whispered, almost too low to hear:

“...What if I didn’t mean to catch feelings either?”

✿

The next day, the Hirai household felt... different.

Nayeon didn’t show up unannounced. She didn’t barge into the kitchen for snacks or collapse dramatically on the couch with her usual flair. It was quiet.

Too quiet.

Mina noticed.

At first, she didn’t think much of it. Maybe Nayeon had errands. Maybe Momo had finally scared her off with those dramatic “no-flirting zones” she’d been ranting about. But by evening, when the front door still hadn’t opened to the sound of a shrill “I’m home~!” and a bag of chips crinkling under Nayeon’s arm, something felt... off.

She sat on the edge of the couch, absently scrolling on her phone, but not really seeing anything. Every noise made her glance at the door. Nothing.

Momo plopped beside her with a huff and a bowl of popcorn. “You good?”

Mina nodded. “Yeah.”

A pause. “She’s not coming today,” Momo said without looking at her.

Mina didn’t respond right away. Her fingers tightened slightly around her phone.

“I didn’t ban her,” Momo added, catching her sister’s subtle reaction. “She just… said she needed space.”

Mina finally looked at her. “From who?”

Momo hesitated. “From you, probably.”

Silence.

Mina looked away again, her voice soft. “I didn’t ask her to do that.”

“I know. I just think she’s trying to figure stuff out.”

Mina didn’t reply.

—

It was two more days before Nayeon showed up again.

She rang the doorbell.

That was the first red flag.

Momo answered with a raised brow. “Since when do you ring?”

Nayeon smiled awkwardly, standing stiffly at the door with a tote bag slung over her shoulder. “Just being polite. Respecting the ‘zones,’ y’know?”

Momo stepped aside with a sigh. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Pot, meet kettle.”

Mina was in the kitchen, rinsing strawberries when she heard the familiar voice. Her hand froze under the water.

Nayeon peeked around the corner, making eye contact for the first time since the movie night disaster.

“Hey,” she said softly.

Mina turned slightly. “Hey.”

An awkward beat.

“I’m just dropping off Momo’s charger,” Nayeon said, lifting the tote. “The one she left at mine.”

Mina nodded. “Cool.”

Nayeon shifted on her feet, eyes flicking to the strawberries in the colander. “You still like those, huh?”

Mina nodded again. “Always have.”

Another silence. This time heavier.

“I should go,” Nayeon said quickly. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Mina bit her lip, then suddenly spoke. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

Nayeon froze mid-turn. “I—no, I was just giving you space.”

“I didn’t ask for space.”

“You looked like you needed it.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

It was the sharpest Mina had ever spoken to her.

Nayeon turned slowly to face her. “Then what did you need?”

Mina looked down at the strawberry in her hand, as if it might have the answer. Then she met Nayeon’s eyes.

“I don’t know. But not this.”

Her voice was calm, but her meaning was clear.

The tension between them wasn’t just awkward anymore—it was charged. Unspoken. Real.

Nayeon exhaled. “Okay. Then no more avoiding.”

Mina gave the faintest nod. “Good.”

Nayeon lingered one more second, then smiled—small, genuine.

And for the first time since everything went sideways, Mina smiled back.

Just barely.

But it was enough.

❀

Later that evening, Nayeon sat alone on the porch swing outside Momo’s house, her elbows resting on her knees, fingers loosely interlocked. The distant buzz of cicadas filled the quiet, and she could hear muffled laughter from inside the house. Momo and Mina were probably watching something again—this time without her.

She sighed.

There was a time when all of this was a game.

A tease here. A flirty name there. A smirk just to see Mina squirm.

But now?

Now her chest ached in ways she didn’t know teasing could cause.

She was supposed to be the one in control—unbothered, playful, untouchable. But today, when Mina had looked at her and said, “I didn’t ask for space,” it felt like something had shifted between them.

She didn’t know when, or how, but this stopped being about making Momo roll her eyes or watching Mina blush for fun.

Now, she wanted Mina to look at her. She wanted those soft, uncertain smiles. She wanted to know what it would feel like to hold her hand and mean it.

“Ugh,” Nayeon groaned into her palms. “What is happening to me.”

The screen door creaked open. She jumped.

Mina stepped out with a light sweater draped over her shoulders, two cups in her hands.

“Tea,” she said simply, holding one out.

Nayeon blinked. “For me?”

“No, for the porch ghost haunting you.”

Nayeon gave a tired smile and took the cup. “Thanks.”

They sat in silence for a while, sipping.

The air between them was quiet, but not uncomfortable.

“So,” Mina said finally, her voice quiet, “is flirting banned now?”

Nayeon choked on her tea. “W-What?”

Mina didn’t look at her. “Momo’s rules. The ‘zones.’ You seem like you’re actually following them.”

Nayeon hesitated. “I thought maybe… you wanted me to.”

Mina’s lips twitched. “I didn’t say that.”

There was a beat. The porch swing swayed gently beneath them.

Nayeon looked at her sideways. “So you’re saying… flirting’s back on the table?”

Mina turned to face her, one brow slightly raised, mouth curved into the faintest smirk.

“I’m saying…” she said slowly, “…I’ll let you know if you cross a line.”

Nayeon’s heart did a little flip.

“Oh, dangerous,” she whispered, grinning.

Mina sipped her tea like she hadn’t just thrown gasoline on the fire.

Nayeon looked at her for a moment longer, then faced forward again, smile lingering.

This wasn’t the game anymore.

This was something else entirely.

And Nayeon wasn’t sure where it was going—but for the first time, she wanted to find out.

Chapter Text

It started with a glance.

Not a shy one. Not the usual startled, eyes-quickly-turned-away thing Mina had been doing for weeks. No. This one was held—steady, purposeful, unreadable. And Nayeon? She noticed.

They were seated on opposite ends of the dining table, the rest of the group chatting around them. Momo was telling a story about nearly burning down the kitchen again, and everyone laughed as she mimed how the toaster betrayed her.

But Nayeon’s attention was elsewhere.

Mina had just looked up from her glass of water, and instead of shrinking back when their eyes met, she simply tilted her head—almost like she was studying her.

Nayeon blinked. Did… did Mina just look at her like that?

She shook it off, pretending to listen to Sana’s comment about getting fire extinguishers for Momo’s birthday. But it lingered.

A few minutes later, Nayeon made a comment—classic, casual, flirty. “So, Mina, you’re just not gonna save me a seat anymore? That’s how it is now?”

Usually, Mina would blink at her or murmur something awkward.

But not today.

She leaned her elbow on the table and, without breaking eye contact, said softly, “If you wanted to sit close, you should’ve asked nicely, unnie.”

Unnie.

Nayeon didn’t know why the word hit harder than usual, but it did. The heat that rose in her chest had nothing to do with the food in front of her.

“W-What?” she stammered.

Mina only took another bite of her rice like she hadn’t just flipped the table with a single sentence.

Across from them, Jeongyeon and Chaeyoung made brief, startled eye contact. And Momo? She glanced between her sister and Nayeon like she’d just heard thunder on a clear day.

Later, in the kitchen, Nayeon leaned on the counter while Momo rinsed dishes.

“She’s—did you see that? She’s doing it on purpose now,” Nayeon whispered, scandalized.

Momo looked at her flatly. “Good.”

“GOOD?!”

“You’ve been driving her crazy for months. You deserve every second of this.”

Nayeon clutched her chest dramatically. “I’ve created a monster.”

“No,” Momo said smugly. “You unlocked a hidden boss level.”

Nayeon groaned and buried her face in her hands.

Because she knew Mina had looked at her like she knew what she was doing.

And that was both terrifying… and thrilling.

✿

Later that week, the group was hanging out at Sana’s apartment for a chill game night. The atmosphere was relaxed—blankets everywhere, pizza boxes open, music playing low in the background.

They were playing charades. Laughter filled the room as Dahyun dramatically tried to act out Titanic by balancing on the arm of the couch like it was the ship’s deck. Mina was curled up with a pillow on the floor, sitting surprisingly close to Nayeon.

And that’s when it started again.

Nayeon leaned down to whisper, “Wanna team up, babygirl?”—her default setting, voice smooth as always.

But instead of freezing or blushing like usual, Mina blinked up at her innocently and said, “Sure… but only if you can keep your eyes off me for five minutes.”

Short circuit: initiated.

Nayeon blinked. “I—What?”

Mina tilted her head, lips twitching with the ghost of a smirk. “You keep looking. Just wondering if you’ll survive not doing it.”

Jeongyeon coughed into her drink. Chaeyoung dropped a pretzel stick.

Momo, across the room, paused the music with a dramatic gasp. “DID SHE JUST—?”

Mina didn’t even acknowledge her sister. She just looked back at the TV, perfectly composed. Calm. Deadly.

Nayeon sat back slowly, like she had to rewire her entire nervous system. “Okay. Okay,” she muttered to herself, like she was praying for strength.

Later that night, after most of the group had gone home or crashed on couches, Nayeon stayed behind to help clean up. She wasn’t even sure why she volunteered—maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was curiosity. Or maybe it was the fact that Mina was still there, quietly putting things back in the fridge like she hadn’t just roasted her into oblivion earlier.

Nayeon opened her mouth to say something—anything—but Mina beat her to it.

“You get nervous when I tease you back,” she said without looking up, her tone casual. “That’s interesting.”

“I do not get nervous,” Nayeon said too quickly.

Mina shut the fridge door and finally met her eyes. “So… what’s wrong, Nayeon?” she asked softly. “Not used to someone turning the game around?”

Nayeon stared. Her mouth moved like she was about to respond, but nothing came out.

Nothing.

Mina raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Huh. Thought so.”

She walked past her—slow, graceful, deliberate—leaving the scent of vanilla and victory in her wake.

Nayeon remained frozen in place, eyes wide.

“Yup,” Momo whispered from the kitchen doorway, arms crossed. “You’re down bad.”

❀

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon. No parties, no friend group chaos—just rain tapping against the windows, the kind of weather that made people sentimental without permission. Mina was in her room, curled up on her bed in a sweatshirt two sizes too big, scrolling through her phone mindlessly.

Then, the notification came through:

Nayeon 💅:

you free?

Mina blinked. It was the first time Nayeon had texted her directly without a meme or a group chat buffer. She stared at it. Just two words. But somehow, it carried weight. Like Nayeon had thought about sending it. Like it had hesitated on her end too.

Mina typed, deleted, typed again.

Mina:

maybe. why?

Three seconds later, the typing bubble popped up.

Nayeon 💅:

idk. just thinking about earlier. and… stuff.

Mina stared at the screen longer this time. “Stuff?” What did that mean? She could picture Nayeon lying in her overly pink room, probably chewing on a straw or flipping her hair dramatically. And somehow still managing to look unreasonably good.

Before she could stop herself, she typed:

Mina:

about me teasing you back?

The reply came slower.

Nayeon 💅:

…maybe
are you gonna do it again?

Mina smirked. She could practically feel the nervous energy radiating through the screen.

Mina:

depends. can you handle it?

No response. Just the bubble—typing…—for almost a full minute.

Then it vanished.

No reply.

Mina set her phone down, heart fluttering like it wasn’t even her idea to start this whole game. The silence between them now wasn’t awkward—it was charged. Everything felt heavier. Thicker. Like the air knew something had shifted and didn’t want to let go.

Later that night, she passed Nayeon briefly at the local coffee shop. Pure coincidence. Maybe.

Mina had ordered a warm drink and was about to leave when she turned around—and there was Nayeon, in a cropped hoodie and sweatpants, looking too casual to be unintentional. Their eyes met.

For a moment, no words were exchanged. Just… a look. Lingering. Curious. Cautious.

Nayeon finally spoke, voice lower than usual. “Still deciding if I can handle it.”

Mina tilted her head, a slow smile creeping across her lips.

“Take your time,” she whispered, brushing past her on the way out.

Nayeon stood there, stunned again.

And Momo, who was five people behind Nayeon in line, full-on dropped her wallet and muttered, “Oh, we are so cooked.”

✿

The hallway was dim—just past 10 PM. Most of the house was quiet, except for the hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of settling wood. Mina stepped out of the bathroom, hair damp from her shower, wrapped in a hoodie and soft cotton shorts. She paused at the kitchen door. She wasn’t alone.

Nayeon was there, hunched over the counter, sipping something warm. A hoodie of her own, loose and falling slightly off one shoulder. Her hair was tied messily—like she’d been running her hands through it too much.

They locked eyes.

Neither spoke.

Mina debated going back to her room. But her feet moved forward instead.

She opened the fridge and reached for a bottle of water. She could feel Nayeon watching her—like the air between them had grown a pulse. Alive and awkward. Curious and charged.

“You always drink cold water after hot showers?” Nayeon asked, breaking the silence.

Mina turned slightly, sipping. “Yeah. You always loiter in other people’s kitchens?”

Nayeon smiled, but it was gentler than usual. “Only when I can’t sleep.”

A beat.

Then Mina leaned back against the counter opposite her. “Thinking about something?”

Nayeon didn’t respond right away. Her fingers played with the rim of her mug.

“I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately.”

Mina raised a brow. “Let me guess. Teasing people until they lose their minds?”

“Maybe,” Nayeon laughed softly, then met her eyes. “But also… what happens when it stops being a joke?”

The room stilled. Mina didn’t smile. She didn’t smirk. She just looked at Nayeon—really looked at her. Past the cocky grins and pet names. Past the drama.

“What do you mean?” Mina asked, her voice steady.

Nayeon hesitated. She wasn’t used to this part—the serious part. The truth part.

“I mean… I used to flirt with you because it was fun,” she admitted, voice quieter. “You were always so calm. Unshakeable. Like I could poke at you and nothing would move. And then… you started poking back.”

Mina took another sip, buying herself a few seconds. Her pulse was louder than the silence now.

“And now?” she asked.

Nayeon stared at her. Then shrugged—but it wasn’t casual. It was nervous.

“Now I don’t know if we’re still joking.”

For a second, Mina wanted to respond with something smooth. Something clever. But instead, she set her bottle down gently.

“I don’t want to joke anymore,” she said plainly.

And with that, she walked away—calmly, deliberately, never turning back.

But as she disappeared down the hall, Nayeon stood frozen, gripping her mug like it might shatter.

Because she realized something.

She missed the joke, but the punchline hit her square in the chest.

❀

The next evening was unusually quiet. Momo had gone out to dinner with friends, suspiciously supportive once Mina casually mentioned she’d be staying in. Nayeon wasn’t sure if it was a setup—but the emptiness of the house made every minute feel like it was waiting for something to happen.

Mina hadn’t texted all day. Not a meme. Not a “?” Not even a “you’re annoying.”

Which was exactly why Nayeon was pacing in the living room like she was waiting for a storm to hit.

Then Mina walked in. Cool. Unhurried. No makeup. Hair tied back in that slightly-messy, heart-stopping way that made Nayeon forget how to breathe.

She didn’t say hi.

She didn’t smile.

She sat across from Nayeon like it was just another Friday night—and like it absolutely wasn’t.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Nayeon finally said, voice way too casual for the way her fingers clutched the edge of her hoodie.

Mina tilted her head slightly. “So have you.”

A pause. Thick and delicate.

Nayeon cleared her throat. “You planning to tease me again?”

Mina smirked—but this one was different. Not smug. Not mocking. Gentle. Dangerous.

“I was thinking…” she leaned forward slightly, voice smooth, “you tease people to get reactions. Right?”

“...Right.”

“But what if the reaction isn’t what you expected?”

Nayeon swallowed.

Mina stood up slowly, walking toward her. Each step unhurried, measured. She stopped just in front of the couch where Nayeon sat—close enough for Nayeon to notice the faint scent of her shampoo.

“You call me babygirl all the time,” Mina said softly, looking down at her. “And I let you.”

“...Because it’s funny,” Nayeon replied, unsure if she was defending herself or just trying to stay afloat.

Mina nodded. “Sure. It’s funny.”

Then, without warning, she knelt down. One knee on the couch cushion beside Nayeon. A hand resting lightly on the back of it, as if she were just steadying herself.

“But you know what?” she whispered, gaze unwavering. “I don’t mind it.”

Nayeon’s heart stuttered.

Mina leaned in just a little closer—close enough that Nayeon forgot how to think.

“I just think…” Mina’s voice dropped to something soft and sincere, “…if you’re going to call me babygirl, maybe you should call me something real, too.”

It wasn’t a challenge.

It was a confession.

And for the first time, Nayeon didn’t have a clever comeback.

She just stared—completely, utterly caught.

Mina didn’t kiss her.

She didn’t need to.

She just stood back up, calm as ever, and walked out—leaving Nayeon in a stunned, breathless silence that vibrated through the whole room.

Moments later, the front door creaked open. Momo stepped inside.

She saw Nayeon still frozen on the couch.

“…Did Mina just break you?” she asked, setting her bag down.

Nayeon blinked once.

Twice.

And whispered, “…She might’ve.”

Momo screamed.

Chapter Text

The air was different the next day.

Not awkward, exactly—but charged. Nayeon had barely slept. She’d replayed Mina’s words over and over in her mind, trying to find loopholes, a wink in her tone, something that would let her laugh it off and keep things safe.

But there wasn’t one.

It was real. Mina had asked for something real.

And now, Nayeon was standing outside the café where Mina usually spent her Sunday afternoons—holding two cups of iced americano and pacing like she’d never flirted with anyone in her life.

She spotted Mina by the window, head down, scribbling in her sketchpad. Calm. Focused. Absolutely unreachable.

Until their eyes met.

Mina looked up, mildly surprised to see her—but didn’t look away.

That was enough.

Nayeon stepped inside.

Mina’s brow lifted slightly as Nayeon approached the table and held out one of the coffees. “Peace offering?” Nayeon offered, voice quieter than usual.

“Were we at war?” Mina asked, amused.

Nayeon pulled the chair out across from her and sat, fidgeting with her straw. “I think I’ve been fighting myself a little.”

That earned her a look. Subtle. Curious.

Nayeon exhaled. “Okay. No teasing today. No ‘babygirl’ or whatever.”

Mina blinked, almost disappointed. “Oh.”

Nayeon caught that. Her heart did something weird. “Wait—did you want me to?”

Mina shrugged, the smallest twitch of her lips betraying her. “I just thought you were braver than that.”

“Brave?” Nayeon scoffed. “I’ve been calling you embarrassing nicknames in public for months. What part of that says bravery and not ‘I have a crush and don’t know what to do with it’?”

Mina paused. “...You just said it.”

Nayeon blinked. “Huh?”

“You said it,” Mina repeated, her voice softer now. “You have a crush.”

Nayeon stared at her coffee. Then at her. “I didn’t mean to fall for you. Honestly. You’re, like… calm. Controlled. Dangerous.”

“That’s three compliments disguised as insults.”

“I’m trying here,” Nayeon muttered, cheeks burning.

Mina leaned forward slightly. “So stop trying to be smooth.”

That stunned Nayeon into silence.

“Just be real with me,” Mina said. “It’s okay if it’s messy.”

Nayeon’s fingers tightened slightly around the cup. She finally looked up, fully, like she was meeting her where it mattered.

“Okay,” she said. “Then let me start here: I like you. Not the way I joke around. Not the teasing, not the dares. Just… you. I like you.”

For a moment, Mina didn’t speak.

She just smiled.

And it was soft. Unguarded.

Genuine.

“Good,” she said simply.

Nayeon blinked. “That’s it? No dramatic pause? No witty comeback?”

Mina tilted her head, playful now. “Would you prefer I run out dramatically again?”

“Please don’t,” Nayeon grinned, the tension in her shoulders finally easing.

Outside the window, the clouds shifted, and sunlight spilled across their table.

Nayeon reached out slowly—no jokes, no dramatics—and placed her hand over Mina’s.

To her relief, Mina didn’t pull away.

✿

The café was warm now—not from the weather, but from something quiet and close and new that neither of them dared name yet.

Nayeon still hadn’t let go of Mina’s hand. Not fully. Their fingers were just… resting there. Lightly touching. Like one wrong move could shatter it all.

Nayeon cleared her throat.

Mina glanced up with that subtle tilt of her head that always made Nayeon forget her entire train of thought.

“I keep thinking I’m gonna wake up and this’ll be a joke you’re pulling on me,” Nayeon said.

Mina’s brows knit, lips quirking slightly. “You think I’m capable of elaborate emotional pranks?”

“Honestly?” Nayeon exhaled. “You’ve kept me on my toes since day one. You say one thing and look at me like it means a hundred others.”

Mina leaned back in her seat, her free hand resting near her coffee. “And you call me dangerous.”

“Still true.”

Mina didn’t argue. Instead, she looked down at their joined hands. “So… what happens now?”

The question landed heavier than expected.

Nayeon licked her lips, heart pounding. She’d flirted her way out of thousands of awkward moments—but this one, she didn’t want to slip past. She wanted to stay in it. Feel it all.

She took a shaky breath.

“Okay,” she said, voice gentler than Mina had ever heard it. “Serious mode, no jokes, right?”

Mina nodded once.

Nayeon slowly lifted their hands, interlocking their fingers fully this time. She smiled, nervous and sweet and a little crooked.

“…Hey,” she said, voice almost shy. “Girlfriend?”

Mina blinked. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Just silence and eye contact.

Then she laughed—soft, breathy, completely surprised by herself.

And she smiled.

Actually smiled. A real one. The kind Nayeon thought was probably rare. Private. Earned.

“Hi,” Mina replied, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Took you long enough.”

Nayeon let out a relieved sigh, leaning forward slightly. “You’re scary when you’re patient.”

“You’re lucky I was,” Mina murmured, brushing her thumb lightly over Nayeon’s knuckles. “I almost gave up on waiting.”

Nayeon swallowed. “You don’t have to wait anymore.”

Before Mina could answer, a loud clatter came from the entrance—followed by a very familiar voice.

“Oh my GOD.”

Both girls looked up.

Momo stood there with a takeout bag in hand, jaw dropped, eyes wide, very much staring at their fully intertwined hands.

“I hate everything,” Momo groaned dramatically, turning around like she was going to leave.

Nayeon was already laughing. Mina looked half-mortified, half-smug.

“Momo,” Nayeon called sweetly. “Come say hi to your future sister-in-law.”

Momo screamed into the void and disappeared behind the door.

Mina sighed. “You’re never going to let her recover, are you?”

“Nope,” Nayeon grinned. “She made rules. I broke them. You chose me. This is my victory arc.”

Mina shook her head with mock disapproval. “You’re insufferable.”

“You love it.”

Mina rolled her eyes—but her fingers were still wrapped around Nayeon’s.

And neither of them let go.

❀

The walk home was quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind. It was that rare, golden kind of silence—the kind where everything important had already been said, and now they were just… existing together. Peacefully.

Their hands still brushed occasionally. Not always on purpose.

Sometimes Nayeon would look at Mina out of the corner of her eye. Not like before—there was no teasing in her gaze now. Just softness. Like she couldn’t believe she was allowed to look like this.

Mina noticed. Of course she did. She’d always noticed.

“So,” Mina said, breaking the stillness as they turned down her street, “was that your big romantic confession back there?”

Nayeon looked sheepish. “What, not enough?”

“It was enough,” Mina said after a pause. “I just thought you’d go bigger.”

“I was terrified.”

“You?” Mina smirked. “The human embodiment of confidence?”

“Hey, it’s one thing to flirt with someone who pretends not to like you. It’s another thing to risk everything when they actually might.”

Mina glanced at her.

“Did you think I wouldn’t like you back?”

“I thought… maybe I’d pushed too far. That I’d messed it up with all the jokes. That maybe you only tolerated me because of Momo.”

Mina stopped walking.

Nayeon took two more steps before realizing she was standing alone.

She turned around, brows drawn in. “Mina?”

Mina tilted her head. “You really thought I was just tolerating you?”

Nayeon rubbed the back of her neck. “I didn’t want to believe it. But yeah.”

Mina took a step forward. Then another. Until they were inches apart on the sidewalk, streetlight casting a soft glow on both of them.

“I’ve never tolerated you,” she said softly.

“You’ve literally banned me from your house before.”

“That was for Momo’s sanity.”

Nayeon gave her a crooked grin. “So… what have you been doing, then? All this time?”

Mina looked up at her, something unreadable in her expression. “I was waiting for you to stop playing.”

That made Nayeon pause.

“And now?” she asked.

Mina’s gaze dropped to her lips for half a second. Then back to her eyes.

“Now,” Mina said quietly, “I’m wondering if you’ll kiss me like you mean it.”

It hit Nayeon like a punch to the chest. The breath left her in a small gasp, and her usual confidence stuttered.

But her hands didn’t. They reached for Mina’s waist gently, unsure at first, until Mina leaned into her touch.

The kiss wasn’t wild or cinematic. It was soft. Intentional. No fireworks—just warmth, and slow realization, and finally, finally, truth.

When they pulled apart, Mina kept her forehead pressed to Nayeon’s.

“Don’t joke about this,” Mina whispered.

Nayeon shook her head. “Never again.”

They stood there for a moment longer. Close. Quiet. Real.

Then Mina smiled—just barely—and said, “Still not letting you call me ‘babygirl’ in public, though.”

Nayeon grinned, eyes gleaming.

“No promises.”

✿

Back at Mina and Momo’s apartment, the air felt different.

Mina opened the door first, motioning for Nayeon to come in behind her. It was the same space they always hung out in—same furniture, same cluttered shoe rack, same faint scent of jasmine from Mina’s diffuser. But tonight, it felt warmer. Safer.

Maybe it was the way Mina kept glancing at Nayeon like she couldn’t believe she was really here. Or maybe it was the fact that they hadn’t let go of each other’s hands since leaving the street.

Momo was sprawled on the couch, a mouthful of popcorn, eyes glued to some chaotic survival show. She barely glanced up when the door clicked open.

“You’re late,” Momo called lazily.

“We weren’t on a schedule,” Mina replied, toeing off her shoes.

“Still late,” Momo muttered, then looked over properly—and froze.

Her gaze dropped immediately to their joined hands. Then shot up to Nayeon’s barely-suppressed smirk. Then to Mina, who didn’t look flustered at all.

“Oh my God,” Momo said, sitting upright. “You’re holding hands. Like—intentionally.”

“Great observation skills,” Nayeon said.

“I hate everything,” Momo groaned, flopping back dramatically onto the couch. “My two best friends. Dating. Cuddling. Probably going to kiss in front of me. Disgusting.”

“Relax,” Mina said, heading toward the kitchen. “We haven’t kissed in front of you.”

“Yet,” Nayeon added, grinning as she flopped beside Momo and grabbed a handful of popcorn.

Momo squinted at her. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Oh, so much.”

From the kitchen, Mina called out, “You knew this was coming.”

“I hoped I was wrong!”

Momo peeked toward the kitchen, then whispered to Nayeon, “Just don’t break her heart.”

The teasing fell away from Nayeon’s face. She looked at Momo seriously.

“I won’t.”

Momo nodded once, satisfied, then shoved more popcorn in her mouth and turned back to the TV. “Alright, then. Guess I’m third-wheeling from now on.”

“You’ve always been third-wheeling,” Mina said flatly, reentering the room with three mugs of hot tea.

Momo gasped, offended. “This is betrayal.”

Nayeon held up her mug like a toast. “To betrayal.”

They all clinked cups.

Later, as the night wore down and Momo disappeared into her room muttering something about noise-cancelling headphones, Mina returned from the hallway wearing Nayeon’s oversized hoodie—light gray, soft, and clearly too big on her.

Nayeon blinked. “Is that mine?”

Mina sat down beside her and tucked her legs under herself. “Not anymore.”

Nayeon smiled, slow and full of affection. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Mina rested her head on Nayeon’s shoulder. “I know.”

They didn’t need to say anything else. The quiet said it all.

❀

The room is dim now, lit only by the soft glow of Mina’s fairy lights draped lazily across her bookshelf. Outside, the hum of the city carries on, but inside, it’s quiet—almost sacred. The tea is forgotten on the coffee table, half-full and going cold. Momo’s door is closed (and locked, if her last shout was to be believed), and the apartment feels… still.

Mina shifts under the blanket, curled beside Nayeon on the couch. Her head rests just under Nayeon’s chin, fitting there like it was made to. Nayeon’s arm is draped around her, fingers tracing absentminded shapes on Mina’s shoulder.

Neither of them has spoken in a few minutes—not because they’re out of things to say, but because the silence isn’t awkward anymore. It’s comfortable. Easy. Real.

“Hey,” Nayeon says quietly, breaking it.

Mina hums in response, eyelids heavy.

There’s a hesitation in the air. Then:

“…Girlfriend?”

Mina’s eyes open slowly. She tilts her head up, just enough to meet Nayeon’s nervous gaze. Her heart squeezes at how earnest she looks—no teasing smile, no raised brow, just hopeful and unsure and a little shy.

Mina doesn’t say anything for a moment. She just smiles. A full, soft, actual smile.

“Hi,” she says gently.

Nayeon exhales like she’d been holding her breath.

“That’s a yes, right?” she asks, already laughing a little.

Mina leans up and kisses her cheek—light, fleeting, but intentional. “Obviously.”

They’re both quiet again, but this time it’s because they’re grinning too much to speak. Nayeon tightens her hold, burying her face into Mina’s shoulder.

“You’re kind of scary when you don’t hold back,” she mumbles.

Mina chuckles. “You deserved it.”

“I know.” A beat passes. “Still hot, though.”

Mina snorts, and Nayeon can feel the laughter against her collarbone.

The sound of a door creaking open interrupts them. They both glance up.

Momo steps out, squinting dramatically like she’s just emerged from a bunker.

“If you’re gonna make out on shared furniture,” she deadpans, “at least Lysol it after.”

Nayeon grins. “Don’t worry, we haven’t—”

“We will,” Mina cuts in smoothly, just to mess with her.

Momo lets out a high-pitched ugh and retreats. “I hate everything,” she calls over her shoulder. “I’m moving out. I’ll take the rice cooker.”

They both laugh.

When the door clicks shut again, Nayeon turns to Mina and lowers her voice.

“…Still gonna call you babygirl sometimes, though.”

Mina raises a brow but doesn’t pull away. “Only if you say it like you mean it.”

“Oh, I always mean it.”

Mina rolls her eyes—but the smile’s still there. And it stays even when Nayeon kisses her forehead, slow and careful. It stays when their hands tangle again beneath the blanket. And it stays, even when sleep starts to pull them under.

Because this is something real now. No teasing. No pretending.

Just her. Just them.

Finally.