Work Text:
The email arrives at 8:04 a.m, which feels targeted.
SUBJECT: FINAL EXIT INTERVIEW – REQUIRED FOR PROGRAM COMPLETION
FROM: The L.O.V.E. Project (Longitudinal Observation of Vulnerant Emotions)
Thank you for your participation in the Kiss Me Psychological Attachment Study.
Please report for your Emotional Exit Interview within the next 72 hours.
This interview is mandatory and will conclude your involvement in the program.
You stare at it long enough for your coffee to go cold.
Emotional Exit Interview.
That sounds less like a form and more like a threat.
You forward it to the group chat without thinking.
—
[<3 PROJECT STUDY GROUP CHAT]
SEUNGKWAN: oh this is going to be catastrophic
VERNON: why is it called emotional
SEUNGKWAN: because they’re about to emotionally ruin all of you
JUN: is this where they erase our memories
SEUNGKWAN: if they erase chan’s i will riot
YOU: it’s probably just a questionnaire
SEUNGKWAN: famous last words
—
You close the app and pretend the tight feeling in your chest is indigestion.
It is not.
It’s the knowledge that this is it. The study is actually ending. No more “accidental” proximity, no more scheduled interactions that give you excuses to sit next to Lee Chan without admitting you want to.
And lately, Chan hasn’t been sitting next to you at all.
He’s been drifting. Quiet. Polite. Which is somehow worse than if he were awkward. At least awkward would mean he still cared.
You see him across the campus café an hour later, hunched over his laptop like he’s trying to disappear into it. His headphones are on, but the screen is blank.
You hesitate.
Then you go over.
“Hey.”
Chan looks up too fast, like he was waiting to hear your voice and mad at himself for it.
“Oh—hey.”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“How long have you been here?”
“Just a bit,” he says. “I was… uh. Studying.”
There is nothing open.
You sit anyway, because sitting across from him still feels like something you’re allowed to do.
“So,” you say, trying for casual. “We all got the exit interview email.”
“Yeah.” His fingers tighten around his cup. “I saw.”
“It’s kind of dramatic, right? Emotional exit interview. Like they’re breaking up with us.”
He laughs. Or, he tries to.
“Yeah. Totally.”
The silence stretches. You fill it badly.
“Seungkwan already thinks it’s going to ruin us.”
Chan glances away.
“I mean… he thinks everything will ruin us.”
There is a pause, and something in that word—us—feels heavier than it should.
“Have you… scheduled yours?” you ask.
“Yeah. I got a time.”
“Oh.” You shouldn’t feel disappointed. You do. “When?”
“Ten minutes before yours.”
You didn’t tell him when yours was.
Your heart stutters.
“Oh.”
“Admin sent me the full roster,” he adds quickly. “So I’d know when the rooms were free.”
Right. Of course. That’s normal.
Nothing about this feels normal.
“Cool,” you say. “So. Uh. We’ll be… emotionally exiting together.”
He finally looks at you.
For a second, his face is open. Bare. Like he might say something important.
Then he closes it.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I guess we will.”
Across the room, Seungkwan is openly staring at you both like he’s watching a slow-motion car crash.
You ignore him.
Chan stands.
“I should go,” he says. “I have… stuff.”
You nod. “Right. Yeah. Stuff.”
He hesitates, like he wants to reach for you and doesn’t think he’s allowed.
“See you,” he says instead.
“See you.”
He leaves.
Your chest aches in a way that feels deeply unscientific.
—
Later that night, a new file appears in your inbox.
[CASE FILE 7-A: PARTICIPANT BEHAVIOR SUMMARY — LEE CHAN]
You definitely aren’t supposed to read it.
You do anyway.
Participant demonstrates elevated emotional responsiveness to Y/N.
Indicators include prolonged eye contact, increased proximity, and protective verbal behavior.
Emotional detachment observed following announcement of study termination.
You scroll.
Possible fear response related to attachment loss.
Your throat tightens.
Fear of losing you.
You close the file like it burned you.
—
[L.O.V.E PODCAST – EPISODE 19 (UNRELEASED CLIP)]
recorded later that night
SEUNGKWAN: I’m telling you, Chan is acting like he’s pre-grieving.
JOSHUA: Maybe he just doesn’t like goodbyes.
SEUNGKWAN: Or maybe he’s in love.
VERNON: statistically probable.
—
You don’t hear this yet.
What you do hear is your phone vibrating.
A text from Chan.
CHAN: hey
CHAN: did you… read the case file?
Your stomach drops.
YOU: no
YOU: should I have?
There’s a long pause.
Then:
CHAN: no
CHAN: it’s stupid
CHAN: sorry
You type and erase three replies.
Finally:
YOU: we’re okay, right?
The dots appear.
They disappear.
They appear again.
CHAN: yeah
CHAN: of course
It doesn’t feel like the truth.
The exit interview is in three days.
And something about the way Chan said of course sounds like he’s already saying goodbye.
—
The waiting room is designed to feel neutral.
Neutral walls. Neutral chairs. Neutral lighting.
Like nothing emotional has ever happened inside it.
You sit in one of the plastic chairs with your phone in your hands, not looking at it, because Seungkwan promised not to text during Chan’s interview and you don’t trust him enough to risk it.
A red light glows over the door across from you.
RECORDING IN PROGRESS.
Chan is in there.
Saying things you’re not supposed to hear.
Your knee bounces. You stop it. It starts again anyway.
Ten minutes.
Ten minutes between whatever Chan is saying and whatever you’ll be asked.
You wonder if he’s lying.
You wonder if you are.
—
The red light clicks off.
Your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure someone can hear it.
The door opens.
Chan steps out.
For one terrifying second, he looks like he might cry.
Then he sees you.
“Oh.”
His voice breaks on the word.
“Hey,” you say.
“Hey.”
You stand. He doesn’t move closer. He doesn’t move away. He looks like he’s suspended between both.
“You’re up,” he says softly.
“Yeah.”
A thousand things sit between you, none of them said.
“I, um,” Chan starts, then stops. “Good luck.”
You want to tell him something, before its too late, but the door to your interview opens.
And whatever you don’t say now might be too late.
“Thanks,” you whisper.
He watches you go in like he’s watching something disappear.
—
The door closes behind you with a soft, final click.
The room is smaller than you expect. One table. Two chairs. A recorder in the center like an unblinking eye.
You sit.
The red light turns on.
RECORDING IN PROGRESS.
INTERVIEWER: Please state your participant ID.
You do.
It sounds strange out loud. Like it belongs to someone else.
INTERVIEWER: This is your Emotional Exit Interview for the Kiss Me Psychological Attachment Study. You may stop at any time. Do you understand?
“Yes.”
Your voice doesn’t shake. You’re proud of that.
INTERVIEWER: Did you complete the full duration of the experiment?
“Yes.”
INTERVIEWER: Did you adhere to all assigned interaction protocols with your partner, Lee Chan?
You think of him smiling at you over coffee. Of the way he says your name.
“Yes.”
A lie that feels small enough to get away with.
INTERVIEWER: Were you instructed to simulate romantic and emotionally intimate behavior with Lee Chan?
“Yes.”
INTERVIEWER: Did you do so?
“Yes.”
The interviewer’s fingers hover over their keyboard.
INTERVIEWER: Did you develop emotional attachment to Lee Chan beyond the scope of simulation?
Your chest tightens.
“No.”
The word sits between you and the table, fragile.
INTERVIEWER: On a scale from one to ten, how emotionally affected are you by the conclusion of the study?
“Three.”
Another lie. Bigger this time.
INTERVIEWER: You appear distressed.
“I’m fine.”
They tilt their head slightly, like they don’t believe you.
INTERVIEWER: I will now play selected audio clips from the study to evaluate emotional congruence. Please listen and respond honestly.
The recorder clicks.
Chan’s voice fills the room.
CHAN (recorded): “You don’t have to be perfect with me. You can just be you.”
Your throat closes.
Another clip.
CHAN (recorded): “I like it when you laugh like that. It sounds like you’re not scared.”
You swallow.
Another.
CHAN (recorded): “Hey… are you okay? You’ve been quiet. Did I do something?”
Your hands curl into fists.
INTERVIEWER: Please describe your emotional response to these recordings.
“They’re… familiar.”
INTERVIEWER: Do they make you uncomfortable?
“No.”
INTERVIEWER: Do they make you miss him?
Silence.
“I don’t know.”
INTERVIEWER: Your biometric readings indicate increased heart rate and cortisol levels.
You laugh weakly. “Guess I’m bad at tests.”
INTERVIEWER: You are not being tested. You are being measured.
That’s worse.
They slide a document across the table.
EMOTIONAL DISCREPANCY DETECTED — SUBJECT Y/N
Verbal denial does not align with physiological response markers.
You don’t look at it.
INTERVIEWER: Do you believe Lee Chan cares about you?
“Yes.”
The truth slips out before you can stop it.
INTERVIEWER: Do you care about Lee Chan?
You hesitate.
The room feels too small.
“Yes.”
INTERVIEWER: Then why did you deny emotional attachment?
Because if you say it out loud, it becomes real.
Because real things can leave.
“I was scared.”
The interviewer doesn’t respond.
They just turn off the recorder.
INTERVIEWER: This concludes your Emotional Exit Interview.
The red light goes dark.
Your heart is still racing when you step back into the hallway.
Chan is gone.
So is the chair where he was sitting.
Only Seungkwan remains, staring at his phone with the expression of someone who has just learned something dangerous.
“Oh,” he says when he sees you. “Uh. You should probably… find Chan.”
“Why?”
Seungkwan looks up.
“They just flagged his file.”
Your stomach drops.
“For what?”
“Withdrawal request,” he says quietly.
“From the entire program.”
And suddenly, the exit survey isn’t about data anymore.
It’s about losing him.
—
The Podcast Makes It Worse
Seungkwan shouldn’t be allowed near a “Publish” button.
Unfortunately, nobody ever took his laptop away.
You find out about the episode the same way you always do: your phone starts vibrating like it’s trying to escape your pocket.
[L.O.V.E PODCAST — NEW EPISODE LIVE]
“Emergency Upload: Chan’s Exit Interview”
Your heart drops straight through your ribcage.
You don’t even press play.
You don’t have to.
The hallway outside the research wing is suddenly full of voices, phones held up, people whispering, gasping, swearing under their breath.
“Is this allowed?”
“Did he really say that?”
“Oh my god.”
Seungkwan stands in the middle of it all, pale and trembling with adrenaline.
“Seungkwan,” you say. “What did you do?”
“I— I didn’t edit it,” he blurts. “I swear. I was just going to clip something funny and then he started talking and then— and then it felt wrong not to let people hear it.”
“Hear what?”
Your phone buzzes again.
A text from Vernon:
VERNON: so chan just emotionally destroyed the entire internet
Another from Jun:
JUN: he said y/n’s name like it was sacred
Your stomach twists.
You finally press play.
—
[L.O.V.E PODCAST – EPISODE 20]
“He Wasn’t Supposed to Mean It”
Chan’s voice fills your headphones.
“I wanted them to choose me when it wasn’t part of a test.”
Your chest aches.
“I don’t want this to end if Y/N is what it’s ending.”
People are crying in the comments. Strangers are rooting for something you haven’t even admitted out loud.
“Where is he?” you ask Seungkwan.
Seungkwan swallows. “He asked admin to pull him from the program. Fully. That means—”
“No,” you say. “Don’t say it.”
“If he leaves under withdrawal, he won’t be allowed post-study contact. Not even for… like. ‘Closure.’”
That word feels cruel.
“He didn’t even wait for me,” you whisper.
Seungkwan looks miserable.
“I think he thought you didn’t want him.”
That’s not fair.
You never said that.
But you also never said the opposite.
Your phone buzzes again.
This time, it’s Chan.
CHAN: hey
CHAN: i’m sorry you had to hear it like that
You’re already running.
YOU: where are you
The typing dots appear.
Disappear.
Appear again.
CHAN: it doesn’t matter
CHAN: i just didn’t want to make this harder for you
Your breath shakes.
You shove open the door to the old observation wing — the one everyone stopped using after the study went remote.
It’s dark. Quiet.
“Chan?” you call.
For a second, there’s nothing.
Then—
“I’m here.”
He’s sitting on the edge of the testing table, shoulders hunched, like he’s trying to fold himself smaller.
You stop a few feet away, heart pounding.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He laughs weakly. “Tell you what? That I fell in love during a psych experiment like an idiot?”
“You weren’t an idiot,” you say. “You were honest.”
“And you weren’t,” he says softly.
The words hurt because they’re true.
“I was scared,” you say. “I didn’t think—”
“I know,” he interrupts. “I know you were scared. That’s why I’m leaving. I don’t want to trap you in something you didn’t choose.”
Your chest tightens.
“Chan—”
“I’m not mad,” he says quickly. “I just… I needed to stop pretending.”
Silence stretches between you.
Then you take a step closer.
“I am choosing,” you say. “Right now.”
He looks up.
And for the first time since this started, there’s hope in his eyes.
—
The observation room smells faintly like disinfectant and old coffee.
It’s where everything began — the first surveys, the first awkward sitting too close, the first time Chan looked at you like you were something worth being gentle with.
Now he’s sitting on the edge of the table, hands braced at his sides like he’s holding himself in place.
“I’m choosing,” you repeat. “You.”
Chan stares at you like he doesn’t trust his ears.
“You don’t have to say that because of what I said on the recording,” he murmurs. “I didn’t mean to pressure you.”
“I’m not,” you say. “I’m saying it because I don’t want to lose you.”
He swallows.
“I thought… when you said you didn’t feel anything in your interview—”
“I lied.”
The word comes out small but solid.
“I was scared. I didn’t want it to be real if it was just going to end.”
Chan lets out a shaky breath.
“I would’ve stayed,” he says. “If you’d told me. I would’ve stayed.”
You take another step closer.
“I’m telling you now.”
For a moment, he looks like he might break.
“You don’t understand,” he whispers. “I was already grieving you. That’s what it felt like in that room. Like they were asking me to say goodbye to someone I wasn’t done loving.”
The word loving lands between you.
You don’t flinch from it.
“I’m not done either,” you say. “I never was.”
Chan’s hands tremble.
“Y/N—”
You reach for him.
Not because a prompt told you to. Not because a researcher is watching. Just because you want to.
Your fingers curl into his hoodie.
“I don’t care what the study says,” you whisper. “I care about you.”
Something in Chan gives way.
He leans forward, forehead pressing against yours.
“You’re not supposed to do this,” he breathes.
“I know.”
“Nothing about this is ethical.”
“I know.”
“Then why does it feel like this is the only honest thing I’ve done all day?”
“Because it is.”
He kisses you.
Soft at first. Like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he’s not careful.
Then harder. Desperate. Real.
Somewhere behind you, a monitor starts flashing.
PROTOCOL VIOLATION DETECTED
Neither of you pull away.
EMOTIONAL CROSS-DEPENDENCY CONFIRMED
Chan laughs into the kiss, shaky and relieved.
“We’re breaking it,” he murmurs.
“Good,” you say, and kiss him again.
—
Later, the door opens.
Two researchers stand there, stunned.
Chan doesn’t let go of you.
“I’m not withdrawing,” he says calmly. “We are.”
You squeeze his hand.
A tablet beeps.
[CASE FILE UPDATE: EXPERIMENT TERMINATED DUE TO MUTUAL EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENT]
For the first time since this all started, you’re not being observed.
You’re being chosen.
—
They move you to a different room.
No two chairs on opposite sides of a table this time — just a couch, slightly crooked, like someone tried to make it feel less like a lab and more like a place where humans might sit.
Chan stays next to you.
He doesn’t let go of your hand, even when the researcher clears their throat.
“This will be a joint exit survey,” they say. “Given the circumstances.”
Chan snorts. “That’s one way to put it.”
The recorder clicks on.
INTERVIEWER: Please state your names for the record.
You do.
Together.
It feels like a promise.
INTERVIEWER: Did you develop emotional attachment to one another during the Kiss Me Psychological Attachment Study?
“Yes,” you say.
“Yes,” Chan says, at the same time.
INTERVIEWER: Was that attachment beyond the scope of simulation?
“Yes.”
No fear in your voice now.
INTERVIEWER: Do you regret that attachment?
You look at Chan.
He looks at you like the answer has always been obvious.
“No,” you both say.
The researcher pauses.
INTERVIEWER: Would you like to continue contact after the study concludes?
Chan squeezes your hand.
“Yes.”
INTERVIEWER: This concludes your participation in the Kiss Me study.
The red light turns off.
For once, it feels like an ending that opens into something instead of closing it.
—
Outside, Seungkwan is waiting with his phone held up.
“Smile,” he says. “The internet needs closure.”
Chan groans. “You’re evil.”
“I’m correct.”
You laugh — actually laugh — and Chan looks at you like he’s memorizing the sound.
Later, when the campus empties and the lab lights go dark, you and Chan walk out together.
No clipboards. No cameras. No pretending.
Just him, and you, and a future that isn’t being measured.
“Hey,” Chan says quietly. “Can I still call you?”
“Always.”
He smiles.
Not like a participant.
Like someone who finally got what he was brave enough to want.
—
[BONUS: THE FINAL EMOTIONAL EXIT INTERVIEW]
Participant: Lee Chan
Status: Withdrawn (Emotionally Compromised)
Please answer all questions honestly. Your responses will be used for academic analysis, emotional closure, and—where applicable—public embarrassment.
- Please state your name for the record.
CHAN: Lee Chan.
(His voice is clear. Too clear. The way it gets when he’s nervous and trying not to be.)
- Did you complete the full duration of the experiment?
CHAN: Yes.
- Did you adhere to the interaction protocols outlined in your consent agreement?
CHAN: …Mostly.
(A faint, brittle smile in his voice.)
INTERVIEWER: “Mostly” is not a valid data point.
CHAN: Then yes.
- During the study, were you instructed to simulate romantic behavior toward your assigned partner, Y/N?
CHAN: Yes.
- Did you do so?
CHAN: Yes.
- Did you develop emotional attachment to Y/N beyond the scope of simulation?
CHAN: Yes.
(No hesitation.)
INTERVIEWER: Was that attachment within the expected parameters of the experiment?
CHAN: No.
INTERVIEWER: Please elaborate.
CHAN: I knew it wasn’t supposed to be real. But it didn’t feel fake. Not with them.
CHAN: They listened to me. They made me feel… steady. Like I didn’t have to perform all the time.
CHAN: And then I started wanting things I wasn’t supposed to want.
INTERVIEWER: Such as?
CHAN: Them. Outside the study. When there weren’t any cameras or prompts telling us what to do.
CHAN: I wanted them to choose me when it wasn’t part of a test.
INTERVIEWER: Did you believe Y/N shared this attachment?
CHAN: I… don’t know.
(He exhales, shaky.)
CHAN: They cared. I know that. But caring is safe. Loving someone isn’t.
- At what point did your feelings become “non-experimental”?
CHAN: The first time Y/N laughed and I realized I wanted to be the reason they were happy even when no one was watching.
CHAN: I think that’s when I stopped being a participant and started being a person.
- Were you aware this emotional attachment could compromise the integrity of the research?
CHAN: Yes.
CHAN: But I was more afraid of compromising my heart.
- Describe Y/N using three words.
CHAN: Gentle. Brave. Everything.
- If Y/N were not part of this study, would you still want them in your life?
CHAN: I would want them more.
CHAN: Without the cameras, without the prompts, without the fear that this was temporary.
CHAN: I would want them in all the ordinary, terrifying, forever ways.
- Did you feel emotionally safe with Y/N?
CHAN: Safer than I’ve ever felt in a room designed to observe me.
CHAN: Safer than I felt being alone.
- What are you afraid of losing now that the study has ended?
CHAN: Y/N.
CHAN: The sound of their voice when they say my name.
CHAN: The way they look at me when they think I’m not looking.
- If you could say one thing to Y/N without it being recorded or analyzed, what would it be?
CHAN: I never wanted this to be fake.
CHAN: I wanted it to be us.
- Do you regret participating in the L.O.V.E Psychological Attachment Study?
CHAN: No.
CHAN: I just regret that it gave me something real and then tried to take it away.
- Did the approaching termination of the experiment affect your emotional state?
CHAN: Yeah.
CHAN: It feels like someone’s taking something away and telling me I’m not allowed to miss it.
- Do you wish to continue contact with Y/N after the study?
CHAN: Yes.
CHAN: I just… don’t want this to end if Y/N is what it’s ending.
- Are you aware that continued contact is not guaranteed and may be restricted?
CHAN: I know.
- Final statement (optional):
CHAN: I am not withdrawing because the study failed.
CHAN: I am leaving because it worked too well.
CHAN: It showed me the person I want to love,
CHAN: and I refuse to pretend they were just an experiment.