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Yooyeon preferred quiet mornings.
The kind where the city outside her apartment window hummed softly, the kettle whistled gently, and no one spoke unless absolutely necessary. That was the peace she paid rent for and lately, it had been too expensive to enjoy alone.
So, after three months of hesitating, she finally posted an online ad:
“Looking for a roommate. Clean, quiet, respectful. Rent split 50/50.”
She expected it to take weeks. Maybe months. But before she even finished washing her mug, her phone buzzed.
“Hi!!! I’m Nakyoung and I’m SUPER interested! Is the room still available??😄”
Yooyeon blinked at the emoji.
“…That was fast,” she murmured, setting her phone down. It buzzed again.
“I can come by TODAY if that’s okay!!!”
Yooyeon sighed. “Oh no.”
By 3 p.m., Yooyeon stood at her door, waiting. The hallway was silent until a sudden thud echoed, followed by a cheerful, “I’m okay! Totally fine!”
Yooyeon opened the door just in time to see a girl nearly trip over her own suitcase. She had a messy bun, a hoodie two sizes too big, and a grin that could power a small city.
“Hi!! You must be Yooyeon!” Nakyoung said, slightly out of breath but beaming. “Sorry, the elevator door closed faster than I thought, and then I kinda ran, and then-oh, wow, this place is so nice!”
Before Yooyeon could respond, Nakyoung was already stepping inside, looking around with wide eyes like she’d just entered a museum.
“You have plants! And look at this couch it’s so soft! Can I sit?”
Yooyeon blinked. “You already did.”
Nakyoung froze, halfway into the cushions, and laughed nervously. “Right. Sorry. Force of habit!”
Yooyeon took a slow breath. “You said you’re interested in renting the spare room?”
“Yup!” Nakyoung nodded eagerly. “I brought my own stuff, I can cook...well....I try and I promise I’ll keep things clean! Mostly. Probably.”
Yooyeon raised an eyebrow. “Probably?”
Nakyoung smiled sheepishly. “I get distracted. But I’m really good at apologizing!”
That wasn’t exactly comforting.
Still, as Yooyeon watched her ramble about how she’d always dreamed of living in the city, tripping over her words and enthusiasm alike, she found herself… oddly entertained.
The apartment, usually so quiet it echoed, felt different with Nakyoung in it. Louder, yes. Messier, definitely. But it wasn’t bad.
When Nakyoung finally stopped to catch her breath, Yooyeon said softly, “You can move in.”
Nakyoung’s eyes lit up. “Really? Just like that?”
Yooyeon crossed her arms, pretending to be firm. “On a trial basis. One month.”
“Deal!” Nakyoung grinned, holding out her hand. “Roommates!”
Yooyeon hesitated, then shook it. “Roommates.”
As Nakyoung’s laughter filled the apartment, Yooyeon glanced toward her peaceful plants and whispered under her breath, “What did I just sign up for?”
=================
The first few days were… chaotic.
Yooyeon had always thought of herself as patient. Calm under pressure. The type who could meditate through a thunderstorm. But Nakyoung was not a thunderstorm, she was every kind of weather in one day.
The first morning, Yooyeon woke up to clattering in the kitchen. She walked out, half-asleep, and found Nakyoung crouched on the floor surrounded by spilled cereal.
“I was trying to be quiet,” Nakyoung whispered, like she’d been caught committing a crime. “But then the box slipped, and then-oh no, you stepped in it-”
Yooyeon looked down. She had. “...It’s fine.”
Nakyoung smiled nervously. “Good morning?”
That was how it began.
As the days passed, Yooyeon found herself quietly studying Nakyoung like a scientist observing a rare species. It wasn’t judgment, it was fascination.
Nakyoung was like a cat.
Not the elegant, aloof kind. More like the mischievous, unpredictable kind that knocks things off shelves just to see what happens.
She was messy. Clothes draped over chairs, mugs left in odd places, glitter somehow appearing on surfaces Yooyeon hadn’t touched in weeks. Coffee mugs turned up on the couch, the window sill, even once inside the fridge. (“I was cooling it down faster!”)
She was loud. Music played while she showered, narrated her thoughts out loud, and greeted Yooyeon every morning with a dramatic “GOOD MORNING, ROOMIE!” even if Yooyeon was still half-asleep.
She was unorganized. Her planner was a chaotic rainbow of sticky notes, half of which had fallen off and fluttered under the couch.
And yet, for all her noise and clumsiness, Nakyoung startled at the smallest things. A loud thunderclap? She yelped. The kettle whistling too suddenly? She jumped and nearly dropped her cup. Even Yooyeon quietly appearing behind her once caused her to flinch and say, “You move too quietly! That’s suspicious!”
A loud knock on the door? She’d jump and hide behind the kitchen counter. A horror movie trailer? She’d squeal and bury her face in a pillow. Even Yooyeon’s sudden cough once made Nakyoung drop her spoon and gasp, “Are you okay?! You scared me!”
Yooyeon couldn’t help it, she started seeing the pattern.
Nakyoung was like a cat. A very loud, easily scared, constantly moving cat that somehow made itself at home in every corner of the apartment.
Yooyeon would be reading on the couch and suddenly feel a weight on the armrest, Nakyoung, balancing dangerously close to spilling her drink.
“Whatcha reading?” she’d ask, peering upside down.
Yooyeon would sigh. “Something you won’t finish if I lend it to you.”
Nakyoung pouted. “You don’t know that!”
She never finished it.
But then there were quiet moments too. Like when Nakyoung would curl up on the couch under a blanket, eyes drooping as a movie played softly. Or when she’d mumble apologies after every small accident, cheeks pink with embarrassment.
One night, as Yooyeon passed by Nakyoung’s door, she heard soft rustling inside followed by a small thud and a whisper: “Ow… I tripped on my own blanket again.”
Yooyeon smiled to herself. “Definitely like a cat,” she muttered before heading to bed.
Despite the whirlwind Nakyoung brought into the apartment, Yooyeon found herself growing fond of her new roommate’s quirks. Nakyoung was chaos wrapped in charm. Warm chaos. And in a strange way, the apartment felt less empty because of her.
One evening, as Nakyoung curled up on the couch with a blanket and a bowl of cereal her version of dinner, Yooyeon sat beside her and said softly, “You really are like a cat.”
Nakyoung blinked. “A cat? Me? I thought I was more of a golden retriever.”
Yooyeon shook her head. “No. You’re unpredictable, messy, loud… but you also get scared easily. And somehow, you always land on your feet.”
Nakyoung grinned. “Well, I guess that makes you the calm, mysterious owner who feeds me and keeps me alive.”
Yooyeon chuckled. “Something like that.”
=================
Yooyeon had always considered herself calm, composed, and unbothered by the little things. But Nakyoung tested that theory hourly.
Morning peace? Gone.
Silence? Extinct.
Floor space? Buried under sweaters, half-folded blankets, and socks that seemed to migrate like nomads.
The sock incidents were legendary.
One morning, Nakyoung burst out of her room in a frenzy. “Yooyeon! Emergency! I can’t find my other sock!”
Yooyeon looked up from her tea. “Did you check your laundry basket?”
“Yes! And under my bed. And in the fridge...don’t ask why. It’s gone!”
Yooyeon sighed, stood up, and walked over to the couch. She knelt down, reached between the cushions, and pulled out a crumpled pink sock.
Nakyoung gasped. “You’re a wizard.”
“No,” Yooyeon replied calmly. “You just lose things easily.”
It wasn’t the first time. In the past week alone, Yooyeon had found Nakyoung’s phone in the bathroom cabinet, her keys in the freezer, and her favorite hoodie hanging behind the shower curtain. Nakyoung was a whirlwind of energy, and her belongings scattered in her wake like confetti. Yooyeon, with her quiet patience and sharp eyes, had become the apartment’s unofficial lost-and-found manager.
Nakyoung flopped onto the couch, hugging the sock like a long-lost friend. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Yooyeon gave a small smile. “Probably wear mismatched socks.”
Nakyoung grinned. “Honestly, I already do.”
The first time Yooyeon truly questioned her reality was when Nakyoung burst out of her room again, looking frantic.
“Yooyeon! Have you seen my other sock?”
Yooyeon blinked. “You mean the one on your hand?”
Nakyoung glanced down. “No, that’s my searching sock! The other one’s the missing one.”
“You have a searching sock?”
“It’s lucky!” Nakyoung said seriously then promptly tripped over a cushion.
Later that night, Yooyeon sat down to read and felt something soft wedged between the cushions. She reached in and pulled out a lone sock with cartoon cats on it. Of course it was cats.
When she handed it to Nakyoung, the girl gasped like she’d been reunited with a soulmate.
"My sock! You found it!”
“I found a sock,” Yooyeon corrected. “I doubt it’s the only one.”
“Still counts!”
Nakyoung was exactly like a cat. messy, unpredictable, dramatic… and somehow endearing enough to get away with it. One moment she was a whirlwind of chaos, the next she was curled up on the couch, half-asleep, looking impossibly peaceful.
Sometimes, Yooyeon found herself watching her, not out of annoyance anymore, but because she’d started to enjoy having her there. Nakyoung’s chaos filled the apartment with warmth.
That night, as Yooyeon passed by the couch, she spotted another sock poking out from under the cushion. She sighed, smiling to herself as she picked it up.
“Found another one,” she whispered, leaving it by Nakyoung’s door.
From inside, a muffled, sleepy voice answered, “You’re my hero, Yooyeon…”
Yooyeon rolled her eyes but the small smile stayed as she headed to her room.
“Definitely like a cat,” she murmured.
=================
The rain started in the late evening, tapping gently against the windows like a polite visitor. Yooyeon barely noticed it at first, curled up with a book and a cup of chamomile tea. She liked storms the sound of rain helped her focus, the dim light made everything feel calm and cozy.
But tonight felt different.
Within the hour, the sky cracked open. Thunder rolled in like a wave, deep and rumbling, shaking the windows. Lightning flashed, illuminating the apartment in stark white bursts. The wind howled through the alley below.
A few minutes later, another loud crack of thunder shook the windows, followed by a faint, muffled yelp from the hallway.
Then… shuffling.
And then came the softest, most pitiful knock on her door.
“...Yooyeon?”
Yooyeon sighed, already standing. “Yes?”
The door creaked open, and there stood Nakyoung, wide-eyed, hair a mess, completely wrapped in what used to be a blanket but was now covered in dark stains. The smell hit Yooyeon a second later.
“...Nakyoung,” she said slowly, “is that pizza sauce?”
Nakyoung’s lower lip trembled. “It was pizza. Then the thunder happened.”
Yooyeon pinched the bridge of her nose. “Explain.”
“I was eating on the couch, and it thundered so loud that I jumped, and my pizza… kind of… flipped onto my blanket. Then I wrapped myself in it because I got scared, and now I’m cold and saucy.”
Yooyeon stared for a long moment, somewhere between exasperation and disbelief. Then, despite herself, she laughed softly but genuinely.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Come here,” Yooyeon said, gesturing toward the couch. “But don’t sit until you take that off.”
Nakyoung blinked. “My blanket or my fear?”
“Both, if possible.”
Yooyeon grabbed a towel from the dresser and handed it to her. Nakyoung obediently peeled off the pizza-stained blanket, muttering apologies as Yooyeon set it aside with surgical precision. When she finally sat beside her, wrapped in the clean towel, she looked small and for once, quiet.
“I don’t like thunder,” Nakyoung admitted, voice low. “It sounds like the sky’s mad at me.”
Yooyeon gently draped the edge of her own blanket over Nakyoung’s shoulders. “It’s just noise,” she said softly. “It can’t hurt you.”
“I know,” Nakyoung mumbled, “but it feels like the sky’s yelling at me.”
Yooyeon let out a quiet laugh. “You yell louder.”
That earned a small smile from Nakyoung, who leaned her head against Yooyeon’s shoulder. “You’re warm,” she murmured.
Yooyeon’s heart skipped.
She wasn’t used to this...this closeness, this vulnerability. But something about Nakyoung’s presence, even in her chaos, felt… comforting.
They sat in silence, the storm raging outside, the only sound between them the occasional rumble of thunder and the soft rhythm of their breathing.
Yooyeon looked down at Nakyoung, who was now dozing lightly against her. Her mouth slightly open, her hair a mess, the towel slipping.
And yet, Yooyeon smiled.
“What I'm I going to do with you,” she whispered.
But this time, it sounded a lot like affection.
=================
The first thing Nakyoung noticed when she woke up was warmth.
Soft, steady warmth that wasn’t from her usual blanket or the sun through her curtains. Her cheek rested against something firm, something that definitely wasn’t her pillow.
Then she heard breathing.
Slow. Calm. Right next to her ear.
Nakyoung’s eyes shot open.
She was in Yooyeon’s room. In Yooyeon’s bed. And...oh no...she was half on top of her.
Her head rested against Yooyeon’s shoulder, her arm draped across her waist like she was hugging a human-sized plushie.
Nakyoung froze, afraid that if she moved even a millimeter, Yooyeon would wake up and banish her from the apartment forever.
Her mind screamed, You fell asleep on your roommate. Your beautiful, composed, literal-goddess roommate!
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember what happened.
Thunder. Pizza. Crying internally. Yooyeon laughing. The towel. Then… sitting beside her.
Right. And apparently, she’d fallen asleep like a koala.
Nakyoung groaned softly and immediately heard Yooyeon’s voice, quiet but alert.
“You’re awake.”
Oh no.
Nakyoung slowly lifted her head to see Yooyeon looking at her, half-awake but calm as ever, hair slightly tousled, eyes soft. She looked unfairly good for someone who’d slept through a storm and a clingy roommate.
“I-uh-I’m so sorry,” Nakyoung blurted, untangling herself awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to-uh-cuddle! I mean, I did, but not-ugh-”
Yooyeon blinked, amused. “You talk a lot in the morning.”
“I panic a lot in the morning,” Nakyoung corrected, still sitting up, red-faced.
Yooyeon stretched slightly, sitting up too. “Relax. You were scared. You fell asleep. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” Nakyoung said dramatically. “I drooled on your shoulder.”
Yooyeon looked down at her shirt and shrugged. “I noticed.”
Nakyoung covered her face with both hands. “I’m never showing my face again.”
“Good luck avoiding me in a two-bedroom apartment,” Yooyeon said.
Nakyoung peeked through her fingers. “You’re too calm. It’s scary.”
Yooyeon tilted her head. “Would you rather I panicked too?”
“…Maybe just a little,” Nakyoung mumbled. “It’d make me feel less stupid.”
Yooyeon smiled faintly that small, quiet smile Nakyoung was starting to recognize as rare but real. “You’re not stupid.”
Nakyoung blinked, lowering her hands. “I’m not?”
“No,” Yooyeon said softly. “You just… make the apartment feel different.”
Nakyoung’s heart skipped. “Different how?”
Yooyeon met her eyes, her tone simple but sincere. “Livelier.”
Nakyoung’s cheeks warmed again, but this time, she didn’t mind it. She just smiled shy, but genuine.
“Well,” she said, trying to sound casual, “I guess that’s what roommates are for, right?”
“Maybe,” she said quietly. “Maybe not just that.”
Nakyoung blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
But Yooyeon didn’t answer. She just stood, setting her mug down. “Breakfast?”
And as Nakyoung watched her walk away, she realized something:
Yooyeon might be calm on the surface but she had a way of saying things that made Nakyoung’s heart do cartwheels.
The smell of toasted bread drifted through the apartment.
Yooyeon moved around the kitchen with quiet precision butter knife in one hand, tea steaming on the counter, everything in its proper place. She looked completely calm, as if last night’s storm and the fact that Nakyoung had fallen asleep on her hadn’t even happened.
Nakyoung, on the other hand, looked like she’d seen a ghost.
She stood awkwardly in the doorway, her hair still messy from sleep, wearing a borrowed T-shirt that was a little too big for her. Her eyes darted everywhere except at Yooyeon.
“Morning,” Yooyeon said, glancing over her shoulder. “Hungry?”
“Uh—” Nakyoung’s voice cracked. “No! I mean yes! I mean-sure!”
Yooyeon turned fully now, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t have to sound so terrified of breakfast.”
“I’m not terrified,” Nakyoung said quickly, shuffling to the table. “I’m just… digesting last night.”
Yooyeon smirked faintly. “You mean the pizza, or the thunder?”
Nakyoung groaned. “Both. And maybe the embarrassment.”
Yooyeon handed her a plate. “At least you survived all three.”
Nakyoung took the toast and muttered, “Barely.” She took a bite, trying to look composed but the way her cheeks puffed slightly while chewing made her look more like a flustered hamster than a human.
Yooyeon hid a smile behind her tea cup.
“So…” Nakyoung began cautiously, “thanks for… you know… letting me invade your bed like a human burrito last night.”
Yooyeon set down her cup, amused. “You were more like a very clingy cat.”
Nakyoung blinked.
“You climbed onto me and refused to move,” Yooyeon said calmly. “And then fell asleep in less than five minutes.”
Nakyoung’s face turned bright red. “I-! That’s-! I was scared!”
“I know,” Yooyeon said, her tone softening slightly. “I didn’t mind.”
That quiet sincerity made Nakyoung’s heart skip. She tried to hide it by taking another big bite of toast which turned out to be a mistake, because now she couldn’t speak.
Yooyeon tilted her head. “You always eat like someone’s timing you.”
Nakyoung swallowed quickly. “It’s a defense mechanism.”
“Against what?”
“Your face,” Nakyoung blurted then froze.
Yooyeon blinked slowly. “…My face?”
Nakyoung’s brain screamed. “I MEAN-uh-your calmness! You’re so calm it’s intimidating!”
Yooyeon’s lips curved slightly. “That’s not what you were going to say.”
Nakyoung’s hands flew up. “Okay maybe not but-oh my god, I need water.”
Yooyeon handed her a glass, utterly unbothered. “You’re cute when you panic.”
Nakyoung nearly choked. “Wh-what?!”
Yooyeon turned back to her tea, pretending it was nothing. “I said you’re loud when you panic.”
Nakyoung narrowed her eyes. “No you didn’t.”
Yooyeon only shrugged, sipping her tea. “You should eat before it gets cold.”
Nakyoung stared at her for a long moment, cheeks still pink, trying to decide if Yooyeon was teasing her or not. She liked it either way.
=================
A few days later, Nakyoung decided it was time.
She had to repay Yooyeon for last week’s thunderstorm incident the “human burrito” situation, as she called it internally. And what better way than cooking breakfast?
“I’m gonna cook for her,” Nakyoung whispered to herself one early morning, tiptoeing into the kitchen like a thief in fuzzy socks. “How hard can eggs and toast be?”
Turns out: very.
The eggs clung to the pan like they feared abandonment. The toast burned into a crisp monument to failure. Strawberries she tried to slice launched themselves off the counter like fruity missiles. She spilled orange juice, knocked over a spice jar, and somehow got flour on her eyebrows.
Yooyeon, awakened by the smell of something vaguely smoky and suspiciously citrusy, wandered into the kitchen and froze.
Nakyoung stood in the middle of the chaos, holding a pan with one sad-looking egg and a piece of toast that looked like it had survived a war.
“Surprise?” she said, eyes wide, cheeks flushed.
Yooyeon blinked. Then laughed softly, genuinely.
Nakyoung groaned. “I wanted to do something nice! You always take care of me and I just… I thought I could make you breakfast.”
Yooyeon stepped forward, gently taking the pan from her hands. “You did make me breakfast.”
Nakyoung looked down. “It’s a disaster.”
Yooyeon tilted her head. “It’s a disaster with heart.”
Nakyoung blinked. “That’s… weirdly poetic.”
Yooyeon smiled and picked up the toast, taking a small bite. “Burnt. But thoughtful.”
Nakyoung watched her, stunned. “You’re actually eating it?”
Yooyeon nodded. “You tried. That means something.”
Nakyoung’s heart fluttered. She didn’t know what she expected maybe teasing, maybe a sigh but Yooyeon’s quiet acceptance made her feel warm in a way she couldn’t explain.
Yooyeon handed her a strawberry that had landed in the sink. “Next time, I’ll cook. You can be my assistant.”
Nakyoung grinned. “Deal. But I’m warning you, I’m a chaotic sous-chef.”
Yooyeon chuckled. “I know.”
But Nakyoung wasn’t done.
A few days later, she decided it was time for round two.
“Yooyeon’s going to love this,” she whispered to herself, tying her apron like a knight preparing for battle.
Yooyeon, ever calm, sat at the table with her tea, watching silently. “What are you doing?”
Nakyoung spun around, spatula in hand like a wand. “Cooking! I’m making… pancakes!”
Yooyeon raised an eyebrow. “You’ve made pancakes before?”
Nakyoung froze. “Uh… sort of? Maybe? Once?”
Yooyeon didn’t comment. She just sipped her tea.
Twenty minutes later, the apartment smelled… interesting.
Smoke curled from the stove. Batter overflowed, coating the counter in a gooey mess. A pancake tried to escape the pan but Nakyoung caught it mid-flight—though not before some of it splattered on the floor.
“I’m okay! Totally fine!” she chirped, scooping up the slightly burnt pancake. “It’s all part of the experience!”
Yooyeon’s eyes widened slightly. “You’ve covered half the counter in flour.”
“And half the floor,” Nakyoung admitted with a sheepish grin. “But that’s nothing! It’s charming!”
Yooyeon blinked. “Charming?”
Nakyoung nodded eagerly. “Yes! The chaos is part of the flavor!”
Finally, she plopped a slightly lopsided stack of pancakes onto a plate and handed it to Yooyeon. “Ta-da! Made with care!”
Yooyeon looked at the pancakes. They were uneven, burnt in spots, oddly shaped. But Nakyoung’s grin was so wide and proud that they looked less like a disaster and more like a gift.
She took a bite cautiously.
And then another.
Yooyeon blinked, trying not to let her face betray her surprise. “They’re… actually good,” she said softly.
Nakyoung’s eyes lit up. “Really?! You’re not just saying that because I’m… you know…”
Yooyeon tilted her head. “Because you’re loud and clumsy and messy? No. I mean it.”
Nakyoung’s face turned pink, but she beamed. “I knew it! I’m a great cook! Chaos has flavor! You just… you appreciate it!”
Yooyeon’s lips curved into a small, almost-smile. “I suppose I do.”
By the time breakfast was finished, the kitchen looked like a battlefield, flour dusted every surface, pancake bits littered the counters, and a streak of chocolate syrup decorated the floor like abstract art.
Nakyoung flopped onto the couch, exhausted but happy. “See? I’m useful!”
Yooyeon shook her head, secretly amused. “You’re… something, that’s for sure.”
=================
(yall don’t hate me for what happens next, okay?😭)
Yooyeon had been working on her college project all week. Every detail, every line, every carefully drawn diagram had taken hours and she had finally reached the point where it was almost perfect. She set her laptop on the desk, carefully aligning her notes, and took a deep breath. Finally, a moment of calm.
Then came the crash.
“Oops! Oh no! I’m so sorry-”
Nakyoung, humming and oblivious, had been carrying her laundry basket across the room. In one clumsy sweep, she knocked over Yooyeon’s laptop. Notebooks scattered like fallen leaves. A glass of water tipped, its contents bleeding across the desk toward the project Yooyeon had poured her soul into.
“No!” Yooyeon shrieked, diving forward but too late. The water soaked the edge of her work, smearing ink, warping paper, erasing hours of effort in seconds.
Nakyoung froze, eyes wide with horror. “I-I didn’t mean-Yooyeon, I can fix it! I can help-”
“Stop!” Yooyeon’s voice cracked like thunder. Her hands trembled violently as she pointed at Nakyoung. “Just stop! You’re so stupid and careless! How many times do I have to tell you to watch where you’re going? Do you even think before you do anything?!”
Nakyoung’s face crumpled. “I… I was just trying to-”
“I don’t care!” Yooyeon spat, her voice raw and rising. “Look at this! Look at what you did! My work, my sanity, ruined because you couldn’t walk straight!”
Nakyoung’s lip quivered. “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to-”
“Just go!” Yooyeon screamed, her voice breaking. “Go to your room! I can’t even look at you right now!”
Nakyoung blinked, stunned, as if slapped. Her voice was barely a whisper. “O-okay…” She turned and disappeared behind her door, the soft click of it closing sounding louder than the crash.
Silence.
Yooyeon stood in the wreckage, chest heaving, fists clenched. Her project was a soggy mess. The diagrams were ruined. Her notes, her lifeline, blurred into meaningless ink.
She sank to the floor, knees buckling beneath her. Her fingers brushed the wet paper, and something inside her cracked.
“I… can fix this,” she whispered, voice hollow.
She worked. Hours passed. She redrew, retyped, reassembled. Her hands moved like machines, but her heart felt like it was bleeding. The project was restored. Perfect again.
But it didn’t matter.
Yooyeon leaned back, exhausted, staring at the pristine pages. Her chest tightened, not from stress but from something colder.
She had screamed at Nakyoung.
She had shattered her with words sharper than glass.
Yooyeon’s throat ached. Her eyes burned. Nakyoung hadn’t meant to ruin anything. She had just been… there. Existing. And Yooyeon had torn her down like she was nothing.
She closed her eyes, the silence pressing in like a punishment.
She had yelled at Nakyoung.
And no amount of perfect diagrams could erase that.
(NOOO MY TWOTENZ!!😭)
Yooyeon’s fingers hovered just above Nakyoung’s door, trembling.
She had been pacing the apartment for nearly an hour, heart pounding, rehearsing every word she might say how she would apologize for the things she’d screamed, for calling Nakyoung stupid and clumsy, for letting her rage eclipse everything else. But now, standing here, all those words felt brittle. Useless.
She knocked, barely audible. “Nakyoung?”
Silence.
Her stomach twisted. She knocked again, louder this time, desperation creeping into her voice. “Nakyoung, it’s me. It’s Yooyeon. Please… can we talk?”
Still nothing.
The silence was deafening. Her chest tightened, breath shallow. Maybe Nakyoung had left. Maybe she didn’t want to see her ever again.
Yooyeon hesitated, then slowly pushed the door open.
The room was dim. Clothes lay scattered, blankets half-fallen from the bed but the bed itself was empty. No Nakyoung. No warmth. Just absence.
“She’s gone…” Yooyeon whispered, the words catching in her throat like thorns.
Panic surged. She grabbed her phone, hands shaking. Called once. No answer. Texted. Called again. Again. Again.
Nothing.
The apartment felt hollow, like the walls themselves were holding their breath. Yooyeon collapsed onto the couch, her head in her hands, the weight of her guilt pressing down like a storm cloud.
“I messed up,” she whispered, voice cracking. “I really messed up…”
Time blurred. Hours passed. The clock ticked toward midnight. Yooyeon hadn’t moved. Her phone stayed in her grip, screen dim, unanswered messages staring back at her like accusations.
Then the soft creak of the front door.
Yooyeon’s head snapped up.
Nakyoung stepped inside, quiet as a ghost. Her steps were slow, hesitant. She didn’t see Yooyeon in the shadows of the living room.
“Nakyoung,” Yooyeon said, her voice barely above a breath.
Nakyoung flinched, spinning around, eyes wide with alarm. “Ah! Y-You scared me!”
Yooyeon stood, heart aching. The dim light caught Nakyoung’s face, her eyes red, lashes damp, cheeks blotchy. She looked like she’d been crying for hours.
“Hey…” Yooyeon said softly, stepping forward. “I-I just wanted to-”
“No,” Nakyoung cut in quickly, her voice tight and trembling. She blinked fast, trying to hide the tears that hadn’t finished falling. “It’s fine. I’m… I’m going to my room. I’m sleeping. Really. Just… go back to your couch.”
Yooyeon froze. She saw the way Nakyoung’s shoulders curled inward, the way her lip trembled, the way she wouldn’t meet her eyes. She wanted to reach out, to beg, to fall to her knees if she had to but Nakyoung’s words were a wall she couldn’t climb.
“Sleep,” Nakyoung said again, firmer this time, already turning away. “I’ll… I’ll see you later.”
The door shut behind her with a soft click that felt louder than a scream.
Yooyeon stood in the dark, the silence pressing in like punishment. She sank back onto the couch, her body heavy, her heart hollow.
She had yelled at her. She had humiliated her. She had made her cry.
And now she saw it, the damage wasn’t just done. It was deep. It was real.
Yooyeon buried her face in her hands, her voice breaking into a whisper. “I really… I really messed up.”
And this time, she wasn’t sure if sorry would be enough.
(it’ll get better… i promise😭)
The next morning, the apartment felt… different.
Nakyoung didn’t bound into the kitchen singing like she usually did. She didn’t trip over anything or leave a trail of clutter behind her. She moved quietly, almost cautiously, as if she were walking on eggshells not just around the apartment, but around Yooyeon herself.
Yooyeon noticed it immediately.
Nakyoung came into the kitchen to make coffee, her movements small, careful, deliberate. She kept her eyes low and avoided looking at Yooyeon for more than a few seconds at a time. She didn’t reach over the counter recklessly; she didn’t leave crumbs on the table. Even her usual dramatic gestures, tossing her hair back, flopping onto the couch, flailing while laughing were gone.
Yooyeon felt a pang of guilt every time she caught her glancing at her, hesitating before doing anything.
“Good morning,” Yooyeon said softly, sipping her tea.
Nakyoung mumbled something back. A nod. A soft, barely audible, “Morning.”
Yooyeon watched her as she moved around, noticing the difference in her usual energy. The apartment felt smaller somehow, quieter but not in a good way.
Nakyoung placed a mug on the counter, then stepped back quickly, as if afraid to get too close. Yooyeon could see her hands fidgeting. She wasn’t herself.
“Do you… want breakfast?” Yooyeon asked cautiously, her voice gentle.
Nakyoung shook her head, avoiding eye contact. “No… I’m fine,” she said, her usual exuberance gone.
Yooyeon’s chest tightened. Every small action, every careful movement, screamed that Nakyoung was trying not to upset her again. And it hurt to see her like this subdued, almost scared.
She leaned back against the counter, exhaling softly. “I… I really messed up,” she whispered to herself.
Nakyoung, meanwhile, went about her tasks quietly. She cleaned meticulously, wiped every counter, made her bed with perfect precision even organizing her scattered belongings as if afraid to leave a single thing out of place.
Yooyeon couldn’t help but notice. She swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her own temper from the night before. The loud, messy, clumsy Nakyoung she had fallen for was still there, somewhere beneath this cautious shell but right now, she was a shadow of herself, wary and careful, like a cat hiding after a storm.
Yooyeon watched her leave the kitchen without saying another word. She felt the empty space Nakyoung usually filled warmth and chaos replaced by quiet and restraint.
She sank onto the couch, staring at the floor. “I made her like this,” she whispered.
The apartment was silent. Too silent.
Yooyeon knew one thing for certain: fixing this wasn’t going to be easy.
The next few days were… different.
Nakyoung moved through the apartment like a shadow. She didn’t drop anything, didn’t knock over a single glass, and avoided Yooyeon’s gaze whenever possible. Her usual energy the loud greetings, the wild gesturing, the constant chatter was replaced by careful steps, soft murmurs, and eyes that darted away the instant Yooyeon looked at her.
She saw Nakyoung pause before sitting on the couch, adjusting the pillows as if measuring exactly where to place herself. She saw her triple-check the microwave after reheating food, wipe counters three times, and neatly fold blankets with meticulous precision. Even little things like leaving her shoes perfectly lined up by the door screamed caution.
Yooyeon’s chest tightened every time she watched. The girl who had once burst into the apartment like a whirlwind was gone replaced by someone tense, careful, almost… fearful of her.
“Breakfast?” Yooyeon asked one morning, carefully holding her tea, trying not to startle her.
Nakyoung shook her head softly, barely meeting her eyes. “I… ate already.”
Yooyeon nodded, her stomach twisting. She didn’t press. Every word, every gesture now seemed like it had to be measured, calculated. Every time Nakyoung laughed, it was a little quieter, a little hesitant, as if testing the waters before allowing herself to enjoy it.
Even when Yooyeon sat on the couch to read, Nakyoung would tiptoe around her, quietly doing her own things in the apartment. The usual chaos the scattered socks, the hums, the messy laughter...had vanished.
Yooyeon let out a long breath, staring at the floor. I broke her, she thought. I pushed her into being afraid of me.
And yet, in small ways, Nakyoung still left traces of herself. A pencil left crookedly on the desk, a mug placed a little too carefully, a faint scent of her shampoo lingering in the air. Yooyeon noticed it all, and it made her heart ache.
Every time Nakyoung passed by, she flinched slightly at Yooyeon’s movement, and Yooyeon felt the sting of guilt anew. She wanted to reach out, to say she was sorry, to make it right but she didn’t. Not yet. She knew she couldn’t force it.
So she sat. Quietly. Watching. Waiting.
The apartment was full of silence. Full of careful footsteps. Full of tension.
Yooyeon had spent the morning tidying up, trying to create a calm atmosphere. Her eyes kept drifting toward Nakyoung, who moved around with quiet precision, carefully folding clothes and arranging her things.
Yooyeon swallowed hard. She knew she needed to try something, anything to begin mending the tension, but she also didn’t want to force Nakyoung.
She went to the kitchen and quietly set a plate of pancakes on the counter a small gesture, remembering Nakyoung’s love for breakfast chaos. The pancakes were neatly stacked, perfectly round this time, with a drizzle of syrup forming a smiley face.
Nakyoung paused mid-step, eyes flicking to the counter. For a moment, she didn’t move. Then she stepped forward slowly, her hand hovering over the plate.
“Uh… these are for you,” Yooyeon said softly, keeping her voice calm. “Or… if you want them… for yourself.”
Nakyoung blinked, cheeks flushing slightly. “I… thanks,” she muttered, lowering her hand and then picking up a fork. Her movements were careful, almost hesitant.
Yooyeon sat at the table, sipping her tea quietly, watching her. Nakyoung ate slowly, eyes occasionally glancing toward Yooyeon, then quickly looking away.
“You… don’t have to be so careful all the time,” Yooyeon said gently, breaking the silence.
Nakyoung froze, fork halfway to her mouth. “…I… I’m just… trying not to mess up again,” she whispered.
Yooyeon’s chest tightened. “I know. And I… I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I—”
Nakyoung shook her head quickly, cutting her off. “It’s fine. Really. I just… I’m okay.”
Yooyeon exhaled slowly, letting it go for now. She realized pushing Nakyoung would only make things worse. She needed to be patient.
Throughout the morning, Yooyeon watched Nakyoung move around the apartment carefully wiping down counters, folding clothes, even making the bed with meticulous precision. Everything the loud, messy, chaotic Nakyoung used to do naturally was now calculated, deliberate, cautious.
It hurt Yooyeon more than she expected. The apartment was quieter than ever, and Nakyoung’s presence, usually like a whirlwind of energy, felt restrained, tentative.
Still, Yooyeon noted the small signs of her roommate beneath it all, a little hum as she worked, a soft sigh as she straightened a crooked book, a nervous glance at Yooyeon before returning to her tasks.
Yooyeon leaned back in her chair, quietly thinking. She’s still there. Just… hidden. And I need to be careful too.
The tension remained. The apology wasn’t said. The forgiveness wasn’t given.
(trust the process pls🙏)
The rain began like a gentle rhythm against the windows, but soon it turned fierce. Lightning split the sky, followed by the low rumble of thunder that shook the apartment.
Yooyeon was in the living room, reading, when she heard it, the faintest, almost imperceptible whimper coming from Nakyoung’s room. Nakyoung’s fear of storms, and she likely wouldn’t come to Yooyeon on her own.
Without hesitation, Yooyeon got up and walked to Nakyoung’s door.
“Nakyoung?” she called softly. “Can I come in?”
No answer, only the muffled sound of trembling and the occasional whimper.
Yooyeon knocked again, more firmly this time. “It’s me. Yooyeon. I just want to be here.”
Still silence.
She sighed gently and pushed the door open. The room was dark, lit only by flashes of lightning. And there, on the bed, was Nakyoung curled up tightly in her blanket, knees to chest, flinching every time the storm boomed.
Yooyeon’s heart tightened.
“K-keep out,” Nakyoung whispered quickly, her voice small. “I’m… fine. Go away.”
Yooyeon ignored the protest. She stepped into the room, keeping her voice calm and even. “I won’t leave,” she said softly. “I just want to be here with you.”
Nakyoung’s hands trembled around the blanket, pulling it tighter around her. Yooyeon sat carefully on the edge of the bed at first, giving her space, letting the storm rage outside.
When another lightning strike illuminated the room and Nakyoung flinched violently, Yooyeon moved closer, gently easing the blanket aside.
“Hey,” she whispered. “It’s just a storm. You’re safe. I’m here.”
Nakyoung’s eyes glistened with tears. “I… I don’t want it… it’s too loud,” she murmured.
Yooyeon nodded. “I know.” She shifted closer, carefully scooting onto the bed, making room for Nakyoung. “You don’t have to face it alone.”
Nakyoung hesitated for a moment then, slowly, as if seeking shelter, pressed herself against Yooyeon. Yooyeon wrapped her arms around her tightly, holding her close, letting her small, shivering body relax bit by bit.
The thunder rolled again, but Nakyoung’s flinches became less frequent. Her breaths grew steadier. Yooyeon whispered quietly, letting her voice and presence fill the space: “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.”
Minutes passed. The storm continued, but inside the room, the chaos of lightning and thunder faded against the warmth of their shared quiet. Nakyoung slowly loosened her grip on the blanket, resting her head against Yooyeon’s chest, letting herself finally feel safe.
Yooyeon held her tighter, rocking her slightly, waiting until Nakyoung’s breathing calmed.
Finally, she whispered softly, just above the storm: “See? You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
Nakyoung, finally calm, murmured a quiet, sleepy, “Thank you…”
=================
Morning light filtered softly through the curtains. The apartment was quiet, except for the faint hum of the city outside.
Nakyoung stirred first, her lashes fluttering, breath catching as she realized she was still curled against Yooyeon. Yooyeon’s arms were wrapped around her, steady, protective.
Nakyoung lifted her head slowly, her gaze landing on Yooyeon’s face. Peaceful. But not untouched. There was tension in her brow, a quiet ache behind her closed eyes.
“Morning,” Nakyoung murmured, her voice small.
Yooyeon smiled faintly. “Morning.” She paused, then carefully shifted to sit up, still keeping an arm around Nakyoung. “I… I want to say something.”
Nakyoung tilted her head, listening quietly.
“I… I’m sorry,” Yooyeon began softly. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you last week. I… I regret it. I shouldn’t have called you clumsy and stupid, and I… I hate that I made you cry.”
Nakyoung’s ears flushed slightly, her usual nervous energy soft but present. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I… I can be less clumsy. I can be careful around you.”
Yooyeon’s eyes widened slightly, and she reached out to gently hold Nakyoung’s hands. “No,” she said firmly, but softly. “I don’t want that. I don’t want the cautious, careful Nakyoung. I… I like the clumsy, loud, messy, chaotic you. The real you. Not this scared, quiet version.”
Nakyoung blinked, stunned, her hands frozen in Yooyeon’s grip. “Y-you... like that?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Yooyeon nodded, her calm eyes warm. “Yes. Every bit of you. The one who drops socks and trips over nothing, who hums while she moves around, who gets scared of thunderstorms that’s the Nakyoung I want. Not the one who hides from me or tries to protect me from herself.”
Nakyoung’s chest swelled, and for the first time in days, she allowed herself to smile a real, genuine smile. She leaned into Yooyeon again, not fearful, not hesitant, just… herself.
Yooyeon held her close, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You don’t have to change for me. Ever.”
Nakyoung whispered, almost shyly, “I… I won’t.”
(FINALLY 😭 my girls are okay again 🥹)
The apartment felt… alive again.
Nakyoung was attempting to fold a fitted sheet. She tugged and twisted it, somehow managing to get it wrapped around her shoulders like a cape before stumbling onto the couch with a dramatic sigh.
Yooyeon, sitting at the table with a cup of tea, looked up and tried very hard not to laugh.
“Do you…” Yooyeon cleared her throat, fighting a smile. “Do you need help?”
Nakyoung peeked over the sheet, cheeks warm. “Maybe. But only if you’re not busy…”
Yooyeon stood, setting her tea aside. “I’m not. Come on.” She crouched beside Nakyoung, gently tugging the sheet free.
They worked together...well, Yooyeon worked while Nakyoung mostly tangled her own fingers in the fabric. Every time Nakyoung’s hands got stuck, Yooyeon reached in quietly, steadying her movements.
“There,” Yooyeon said at last, holding up the neatly folded sheet. “See? Not impossible.”
Nakyoung’s eyes widened like she’d just seen a miracle. “You’re… surprisingly good at that.”
Yooyeon shrugged lightly. “Years of cleaning duty.”
Nakyoung smiled shyly, rubbing her arm. “Thanks… for helping. And… for not laughing at me.”
Yooyeon softened, brushing a loose strand of hair away from Nakyoung’s face. “I wasn’t going to laugh at you.”
That alone made Nakyoung’s heart flip just a little.
To change the subject, she jumped up. “I’m gonna make you tea! As a thank you!”
Yooyeon blinked. “You don’t have to—”
“I got it!” Nakyoung declared confidently.
She did not got it.
Within seconds, she fumbled the mug, spilled a little water, and made a tiny panicked noise. Yooyeon stepped in immediately, steadying the cup with calm hands.
“Nakyoung,” she said gently, almost amused, “you’re going to give me a heart attack.”
Nakyoung flushed deeply. “I-I’m trying…”
“I know.” Yooyeon’s tone softened even further. “And it’s okay.”
Once the tea was made with Yooyeon quietly guiding her they sat on the couch together. Nakyoung held her mug with both hands, inhaling the warm steam.
Yooyeon leaned back, letting the quiet settle comfortably between them. The rain had stopped outside, but the soft drip from the gutters made the room feel even cozier.
After a moment, Nakyoung spoke quietly. “It… it feels nice again. Being around you.”
Yooyeon’s breath hitched just slightly but she nodded. “Yeah. It does.”
Nakyoung glanced at her hands. “I was… scared you were still mad at me.”
Yooyeon shook her head instantly. “No. I meant what I said this morning. I shouldn’t have yelled. And I’m really, really sorry.”
Nakyoung’s shoulders eased, like she finally believed it. She slowly leaned her head against Yooyeon’s shoulder hesitant, testing.
Yooyeon didn’t pull away.
Instead, she tilted her head slightly toward her, resting it gently atop Nakyoung’s.
By late afternoon, the apartment felt lighter like the morning had quietly stitched something between them back together.
Yooyeon stretched her arms over her head. “We’re out of groceries,” she announced from the kitchen. “Like… actually out. We have one banana and a packet of ramen left.”
Nakyoung gasped dramatically. “Ramen emergency?”
“Yes,” Yooyeon deadpanned. “We might not survive.”
Nakyoung scrambled off the couch. “We have to go. Now. Immediately.”
Yooyeon raised an eyebrow, amused. “You’re way too excited to go grocery shopping.”
Nakyoung shrugged, grabbing her oversized hoodie. “I like food... and it’s with you.”
Yooyeon smile turned warm. “Okay. Let’s go.”
The automatic doors whooshed open, letting out a chilled breeze. Nakyoung shivered instantly.
Yooyeon sighed and tugged the hood over Nakyoung’s head. “You didn’t bring a jacket?”
Nakyoung blinked up at her, innocent. “I thought my hoodie was enough…”
“It’s literally raining,” Yooyeon said, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Nakyoung giggled. “You sound like my mom.”
Yooyeon let out a small, defeated laugh. “I’m just trying to keep you alive.”
They walked down the produce aisle, Yooyeon grabbing essentials with quiet efficiency while Nakyoung poked at everything with childlike curiosity.
Nakyoung stopped at the apples, picking one up. “Yooyeon… do you think this apple is judging me?”
Yooyeon stared at her. “…What.”
“It’s staring. Look at it.”
Yooyeon leaned closer, squinting. “…It’s an apple, Nakyoung.”
Nakyoung gasped. “You see it too??”
Yooyeon finally burst into laughter not her usual soft chuckle, but a full, warm, unguarded laugh.
Nakyoung froze, surprised by the sound… then smiled.
She hadn’t heard that laugh in days.
She missed it.
A few aisles later, Nakyoung reached for cereal and accidentally knocked three boxes off the shelf.
Nakyoung: “…oh no.”
Yooyeon: deep inhale
Nakyoung waited for scolding, holding her breath.
But Yooyeon just… stepped forward and helped her pick them up.
No irritation.
No raised voice.
Just a soft, “It’s okay. Happens to everyone.”
Nakyoung’s chest loosened.
The rain had turned into a misty drizzle, gentle and cool. Nakyoung held one bag; Yooyeon carried the rest despite Nakyoung insisting she could handle them.
“You almost dropped the apples,” Yooyeon reminded her.
“That was ONE time!”
“It was ten minutes ago.”
Nakyoung huffed and kicked a stray pebble on the sidewalk.
Yooyeon glanced at her, amused and then reached out, hooking her pinky around Nakyoung’s for a second, steadying her.
“Careful,” she murmured.
Nakyoung swallowed, her heart jumping a little.
Yooyeon didn’t move her hand immediately.
Nakyoung didn’t either.
They walked the rest of the way home with their pinkies linked.
By the time dinner was cleaned up, the apartment felt peaceful again.
Warm lamps, soft shadows, and the quiet hum of the rain outside.
Nakyoung padded into the living room with a blanket draped around her shoulders like a cape.
“Movie?” she asked, peeking at Yooyeon from behind the blanket.
Yooyeon smiled, a little tired, a little fond. “Yeah. Pick something.”
Nakyoung scrolled through choices with her usual indecisive panic before settling on a comfort movie they both liked. Yooyeon grabbed the blanket ends and tugged Nakyoung onto the couch.
Nakyoung squeaked. “I wasn’t ready!”
“You never are,” Yooyeon said softly, pulling the blanket around both of them.
Nakyoung settled beside her, knees pulled up, shoulder pressed lightly to Yooyeon’s. The room went dim when the movie started, blue light flickering across their faces.
For a while, neither spoke.
Yooyeon watched the screen, but she could feel Nakyoung’s nervous energy shifting slightly, clutching the blanket, glancing up at her and immediately looking away.
Finally, Yooyeon whispered, “What’s wrong?”
Nakyoung swallowed. “Nothing. I just… I like this.”
“This?”
“You. Next to me.”
Yooyeon’s heart skipped, but she kept her voice steady. “I… like it too.”
Nakyoung fidgeted. “It’s been scary without you being… close.”
Yooyeon turned her head slightly. “Nakyoung…”
Nakyoung’s voice was small. “I missed you.”
That did something to Yooyeon, softened something.
She shifted closer, brushing Nakyoung’s knuckles with her own.
Nakyoung didn’t pull away.
Instead, Nakyoung’s pinky curled around Yooyeon’s.
A silent question.
A quiet, trembling hope.
Yooyeon linked their pinkies fully.
Nakyoung’s breath caught.
“Yooyeon,” she whispered, barely audible, “I… I think I like you. More than I should.”
She stared at her knees, terrified. “I was scared you’d hate that.”
Yooyeon let out a soft, shaky laugh a surprised one, one full of relief.
“Nakyoung,” she said gently, “I… already knew.”
Nakyoung stared up at her. “Y-you did?!”
Yooyeon nodded. “You’re not exactly subtle.”
Nakyoung covered her face in horror. “Oh my god.”
Yooyeon laughed again and gently tugged Nakyoung’s hands down.
“Nakyoung,” she said, voice quieter, “I like you too. I’ve liked you for a long time.”
Nakyoung froze.
Yooyeon continued, thumb brushing Nakyoung’s fingers, “I didn’t want to say anything because… you’re fragile sometimes. And loud sometimes. And you drop things. And you panicked the first time I sat too close.”
Nakyoung squeaked, burying her face in the blanket.
“But,” Yooyeon added, sliding her arm around Nakyoung’s shoulders, “you’re also warm. And funny. And you make the apartment feel full. And it hurt me more than I want to admit when we stopped talking.”
Nakyoung peeked out, eyes glassy. “You really… like me?”
Yooyeon nodded. Slowly. Surely. “I do.”
Nakyoung leaned closer, heart pounding. “Can I… hug you? Or is that too much?”
Yooyeon answered by pulling Nakyoung fully into her arms, holding her tightly. Nakyoung melted into her instantly, sighing into her chest like she belonged there.
The movie played on, forgotten.
Nakyoung whispered into Yooyeon’s hoodie, “I… really like you.”
Yooyeon rested her chin on Nakyoung’s head.
“I really like you too.”
Nakyoung’s fingers curled into the fabric at Yooyeon’s waist, holding her as if she were something precious.
And Yooyeon held her back just as tightly
The movie had long ended, but neither of them had moved.
Nakyoung was curled against Yooyeon, her cheek rested over Yooyeon’s heart. Yooyeon kept one arm around her, fingertips brushing up and down Nakyoung’s arm in slow, comforting lines.
The apartment felt too quiet, too soft.
Nakyoung was the first to shift.
She lifted her head slightly, just enough to look up at Yooyeon.
Her eyes were big, unsure, but glowing with a new kind of bravery.
“Yooyeon…?”
Yooyeon hummed, gently tucking a strand of hair behind Nakyoung’s ear.
“Yeah?”
Nakyoung hesitated, her fingers curling shyly into Yooyeon’s hoodie.
Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
“Can I… look at you?”
Yooyeon smiled, warm and shaken all at once.
“You already are.”
Nakyoung flushed, biting her lip.
But she didn’t look away.
Yooyeon’s hand moved slowly to Nakyoung’s cheek, her thumb brushing the soft skin under her eye,
Nakyoung leaned into the touch without even thinking.
Like her body already trusted it.
Their faces were close, not touching, not rushing, just… drifting together.
Yooyeon’s breath hitched. “Nakyoung…”
Nakyoung swallowed, voice trembling but honest.
“I want to… kiss you.”
Yooyeon froze a quiet, surprised breath leaving her.
Not scared.
Just stunned in the way someone feels when they get something they’ve wanted for a long time.
Her hand slid to the back of Nakyoung’s neck, thumb stroking gently.
“Come here,” Yooyeon whispered.
That was all it took.
Nakyoung leaned in slow, nervous, careful like she was approaching something fragile and beautiful.
Their noses brushed first.
Nakyoung let out a tiny, breathless laugh.
Then Yooyeon tilted her head just slightly, closing the space and their lips met.
Soft.
Warm.
Barely a pressure at first.
Nakyoung’s fingers tightened on Yooyeon’s hoodie, pulling her closer with a shy urgency. Yooyeon’s other hand slipped around Nakyoung’s waist, steadying her, guiding her into the kiss.
It was gentle, tentative, the kind of first kiss that felt like a promise instead of a question.
Nakyoung pulled back first, just an inch, lips brushing Yooyeon’s softly before parting. Her breath was shaky.
“W-wow…” she whispered.
Yooyeon let out the tiniest smile.
“Come back,” she murmured, barely breathing the words.
Nakyoung did.
The second kiss was still soft, but deeper. Yooyeon’s thumb brushed Nakyoung’s jaw. Nakyoung’s hand slid up, fingers curling at the nape of Yooyeon’s neck.
When they parted again, both were flushed, breathing lightly, foreheads resting together.
Nakyoung whispered, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long…”
Yooyeon let out a shaky laugh. “Me too.”
Nakyoung grinned shyly, eyes sparkling.
“So… can we do it again later?”
Yooyeon cupped her cheek, voice a low whisper.
“Nakyoung… you can kiss me whenever you want.”
Nakyoung melted against her, smiling into Yooyeon’s shoulder, heart full and light.
=================
Yooyeon stood in front of the mirror, trying to fix the collar of her jacket for the third time. She wasn’t usually nervous about clothes she wore whatever looked good and moved on but today her hands wouldn’t stay still.
It was their first date.
A real date.
When she heard a soft knock outside her door, her heart leapt.
She opened it and froze.
Nakyoung stood there in a pastel sweater and a skirt that swayed just above her knees, her hair clipped back with a tiny butterfly pin. Simple, sweet, so very Nakyoung.
And completely stunning.
Nakyoung blinked up at her. “Uh… you okay?”
“You look-” Yooyeon cleared her throat. “Really pretty.”
Nakyoung’s entire face flushed pink. “You too.”
They both stood there, smiling like fools, until Yooyeon remembered how to move and stepped aside so they could leave.
They decided on a tiny café a few blocks from the dorm.
Their hands brushed once.
Then again.
Then a third time, and Nakyoung quietly said, “Um… is it okay if I…”
She held her hand out.
Yooyeon’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She intertwined their fingers without a word.
Nakyoung grinned to herself, trying to hide how happy she was. Yooyeon saw it anyway.
They sat across from each other, steaming mugs between them.
Nakyoung played with her sleeve.
“So… this is really happening, right? Like, we’re not dreaming?”
Yooyeon leaned forward, chin on her hand.
“If I’m dreaming, don’t wake me up.”
Nakyoung covered her face with her hands. “Don’t say things like that! I’m still not used to us being like… this.”
“You better get used to it,” Yooyeon teased. “I’m planning on being around for a long time.”
Nakyoung peeked through her fingers, smiling shyly. “Me too.”
Their drinks arrived, hot chocolate for Nakyoung, a latte for Yooyeon.
Nakyoung took a sip and got a tiny smear of whipped cream on her lip.
Yooyeon reached forward with her thumb before she even thought about it.
“Hold still,” she murmured.
Nakyoung froze.
Yooyeon wiped it gently and suddenly they were staring at each other, the air thick and warm between them.
Nakyoung’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“I like you. A lot. Just… in case I haven’t said it enough.”
Yooyeon slid her hand across the table and held Nakyoung’s again.
“I like you more than I knew I could,” she said softly. “And I’m not going to mess things up again. I promise.”
Nakyoung’s eyes glistened.
She squeezed Yooyeon’s hand.
“I believe you.”
The sun was setting by the time they left the café, turning the street gold. Yooyeon swung their joined hands gently, and Nakyoung leaned her head against her arm for a moment.
“Best first date ever,” Nakyoung whispered.
Yooyeon brushed her shoulder against hers.
“Then we’ll just have to make the next one even better.”
Nakyoung giggled, bright and sweet.
They walked back slowly, not wanting the date to end.
They reached the door, but neither of them touched the handle.
Yooyeon’s fingers were still loosely intertwined with Nakyoung’s, warm and steady.
Nakyoung’s heart was pounding so loudly she was sure Yooyeon could hear it.
“Tonight was really… nice,” Yooyeon said quietly, taking a tiny step closer.
Nakyoung swallowed, her breath hitching.
“It was. Because it was with you.”
That did something to Yooyeon, her gaze dropped to Nakyoung’s lips, slow and deliberate.
Nakyoung noticed. Her breath caught completely.
“Nakyoung…” Yooyeon whispered, voice lower than usual.
“Can I—?”
She didn’t finish.
Nakyoung didn’t need her to.
She grabbed the front of Yooyeon’s jacket with both hands and pulled her in ,surprising Yooyeon just enough for a soft gasp to leave her mouth before their lips met.
This kiss wasn’t shy.
It was warm, hungry, all the emotion they’d held back.
Yooyeon’s hands flew to Nakyoung’s waist, pulling her closer. Their bodies pressed together, breath mingling, the kiss deepening as Yooyeon tilted her head and moved her mouth against Nakyoung’s with slow, careful intensity.
Nakyoung let out a tiny, breathless sound and Yooyeon nearly lost her balance.
They kissed again, harder this time, Yooyeon’s hand sliding up to cup the back of Nakyoung’s neck, thumb brushing along her jaw. Nakyoung’s fingers curled into Yooyeon’s shirt like she needed her to stay right there, right now.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing fast, lips swollen, foreheads resting together.
Yooyeon’s voice was shaky.
“…wow.”
Nakyoung let out a breathless laugh.
“I know. I— I didn’t mean to kiss you like that but—”
“I liked it,” Yooyeon whispered, pulling her closer again with a gentle tug at her waist.
“Like… a lot.”
Nakyoung’s knees almost gave out.
They stayed there in the doorway, catching their breath, hearts racing in sync.
Then Yooyeon brushed her thumb across Nakyoung’s lower lip slow, tender, almost reverent.
“Can I kiss you again?” she asked softly.
Nakyoung nodded way too fast.
“Yes. Please.”
Yooyeon smiled and pulled her into another deep, breath-stealing kiss before they finally slipped inside together, still unable to let go of each other.