Work Text:
Megan was not stalking.
Okay.
Maybe a little.
But in her defense, TikTok reposts were basically public information. If somebody reposted something, they wanted people to see it. Right? That was the whole point.
And also in Megan’s defense, her girlfriend was weirdly mysterious online.
Like, offline? Yoonchae was loud. Dramatic. Always yelling “BROOOO” at the smallest inconvenience. She’d randomly lay on the floor during practice breaks and refuse to get up unless bribed with snacks. She sent voice notes instead of texts because “typing is too hard.”
But online?
Different beast entirely.
Her reposts were impossible to predict.
One second it’d be:
“me after drinking one iced coffee”
with some guy vibrating through a wall.
Then:
“cats who sound like humans.”
Then:
“girls with swords >>>”
Then a heartbreaking edit of some fictional couple Megan had never heard of.
The range was terrifying.
Which was exactly why Megan was laying upside down across her bed at 1:12 a.m., scrolling through Yoonchae’s reposts with narrowed eyes like a detective trying to solve a crime.
The room was dark except for the LED lights tucked behind her desk glowing purple-blue against the walls. Rain tapped softly against the window. Her playlist was still going in the background, low enough to ignore.
She’d originally opened TikTok to send Yoonchae a video.
Then she noticed the repost tab.
Then suddenly forty minutes disappeared.
Megan kicked her feet against the mattress as she scrolled.
“Oh my god,” she muttered. “She reposted this?”
It was a video captioned:
“When they’re mean to everyone else but soft with you.”
Megan blinked.
Then grinned.
Okay wait.
That was kind of them.
Because Yoonchae always complained Megan was “selectively evil.”
Which was fake news.
Mostly.
Minus their dream academy beef.
She kept scrolling.
Another repost:
“girls with veiny hands.”
Megan immediately looked down at her own hand.
“…wait I kinda got that.”
Then another.
“when they pull you closer by your waist.”
Megan paused.
Huh.
Interesting.
Very interesting actually.
She clicked the comments.
Top comment:
“this would end me instantly.”
Second comment:
“physical touch supremacy.”
Third comment:
“need.”
Megan snorted.
“Okayyyy, noted.”
She kept scrolling, now significantly more invested.
Then she found the video.
The sound playing underneath was soft and dreamy, that “my moon, my man” audio everyone kept using for romantic edits lately. The actual video was just clips of couples being affectionate in tiny ways. Hands brushing. Smirks. Leaning close.
The caption read:
“things i find insanely attractive.”
Megan’s eyebrows lifted.
“Oh?”
Now this.
This was research.
The list started appearing one by one across the screen.
Flirting in public.
Abs and biceps.
Slow kisses.
Guiding me by my waist in public.
The thumb thing.
When they tilt their head while talking to you.
Megan stared.
Then reread it.
Then sat all the way up in bed.
“…oh wow.”
Because honestly?
Yoonchae was not somebody Megan expected to repost red thoughts.
Like yes, obviously her girlfriend experienced attraction. Megan wasn’t dumb.
But Yoonchae acted shy whenever Megan flirted too hard.
One compliment and suddenly she was hiding inside her hoodie like a startled squirrel.
Meanwhile this repost was basically:
Hello everyone. Here’s exactly what makes me lose my mind.
Megan felt weirdly honored.
Also powerful.
Mostly powerful.
She replayed the video.
Abs and biceps.
Okay wait.
She could work with that.
Megan glanced toward her mirror.
She wasn’t like… insanely ripped or anything. But she danced constantly. Her arms had definition. Her stomach definitely had lines when she flexed.
Usually she wore oversized hoodies and jerseys because they were comfortable.
But maybe.
Maybe she should stop hiding the crop tops she bought and never wore.
“For the plot,” she whispered solemnly.
Flirting in public.
This one surprised her the most.
Yoonchae always got embarrassed so easily that Megan assumed PDA-style teasing was off limits.
But apparently not.
Apparently her girlfriend wanted psychological warfare.
Interesting development.
Guiding me by my waist in public.
Megan immediately imagined it.
Her hand on Yoonchae’s waist while leading her through crowds.
The thought alone made her grin like an idiot.
Slow kisses.
Easy.
She was already good at kissing Yoonchae.
Actually no, scratch that.
She was incredible at kissing Yoonchae.
That wasn’t ego. That was fact.
Because every single time they kissed, Yoonchae made this tiny disoriented face afterward like she’d briefly forgotten basic mathematics.
Megan took pride in that.
Then:
The thumb thing.
Megan frowned.
“…the hell is the thumb thing?”
She scrolled to the comments.
Everybody else apparently understood.
“The thumb thing has me ascending.”
“NEED someone to do the thumb thing.”
“the thumb thing changed my brain chemistry.”
This explained absolutely nothing.
Megan clicked the search.
Several videos appeared immediately.
“Ohhhh.”
Oh.
OH.
Her face heated instantly.
It wasn’t even that crazy.
Just someone brushing their thumb over their partner’s hand or jaw or lips while touching them.
Gentle. Intentional. Soft.
But something about it genuinely did look devastating.
Megan stared at the screen another second.
“…okay damn.”
She could do that.
Definitely.
Then finally:
When they tilt their head while talking to you.
Megan barked out a laugh.
“She’s so sick actually.”
Because Megan already did that.
All the time.
Especially when teasing Yoonchae.
She never realized it apparently had effects.
This was incredible information.
Like suddenly she possessed cheat codes.
She flopped dramatically backward onto her bed, staring at the ceiling.
“So basically,” she announced to absolutely nobody, “my girlfriend wants me obsessed with her in public.”
The ceiling fan continued spinning silently.
Megan grinned to herself.
Bet.
The rest of the week immediately became a mission.
Not a weird mission.
A loving mission.
Important distinction.
Operation: Make Yoonchae Malfunction.
First things first: wardrobe adjustments.
Megan rolled over and grabbed her phone again, immediately opening her camera roll to inspect crop tops she’d never worn outside.
Most of them were impulse purchases.
One black sleeveless one.
One dark gray fitted tee.
One white tank top she originally bought because the model looked cool in it.
Megan narrowed her eyes thoughtfully.
The black one definitely showed her arms more.
Okay wait.
Actually.
Hold on.
She stood up and shuffled toward her mirror wearing an oversized sleep shirt and shorts. She tugged the shirt up slightly and flexed experimentally.
“…not bad.”
She flexed again from another angle.
“Oh wait actually not bad at all.”
Her phone buzzed.
Yoonchae:
u awake
Megan smiled immediately.
Megan:
yeah
Three dots appeared instantly.
Yoonchae:
i miss u :(
Megan physically softened.
Every time.
Without fail.
Megan:
we literally saw each other 6 hours ago
Yoonchae:
exactly
thats centuries
Megan:
dramatic
Yoonchae:
and proud
Megan stared at the messages fondly before typing:
Megan:
what are u doing rn
Yoonchae:
watching edits
thinking about chicken nuggets
surviving
Megan snorted.
Megan:
rough life
Yoonchae:
you dont understand my struggles
Megan:
i support u deeply
Yoonchae:
thank you megan from katseye
Megan laughed quietly to herself.
Then paused.
An evil little idea forming.
Megan:
what if i got insanely hotter
Yoonchae:
?
Yoonchae:
what does this mean
Megan:
answer the question
Typing bubble.
Stopped.
Started again.
Yoonchae:
that sounds threatening actually
Megan grinned so hard her cheeks hurt.
Megan:
goodnight yoonchae
Yoonchae:
MEGAN???
She ignored the next six confused texts and tossed her phone aside.
Because now?
Now she had plans.
Serious plans.
The next morning Megan walked into practice wearing the black crop top under a zip hoodie.
Strategic.
Subtle.
She wasn’t trying too hard.
Yet.
Yoonchae arrived ten minutes later carrying iced coffee and looking half asleep.
Then she spotted Megan.
Then stopped walking.
Megan noticed immediately.
Oh this was gonna be fun.
Yoonchae blinked once.
Twice.
“…hi?”
Megan bit back a smile.
“Hi.”
Why was Yoonchae looking at her like that?
Actually no.
Megan knew exactly why.
The hoodie sleeves were pushed up, exposing her arms, and the cropped shirt showed just enough stomach whenever she moved.
Nothing insane.
But enough.
Definitely enough.
Yoonchae recovered suspiciously quickly though.
Too quickly.
Narrowing her eyes, she pointed dramatically.
“You’re plotting something.”
Megan gasped.
“I would never.”
“You literally have the face.”
“What face?”
“The evil face.”
“I don’t have an evil face.”
“You do right now.”
Megan laughed.
Yoonchae kept staring another second before muttering, “This feels targeted.”
Target acquired, Megan thought happily.
But aloud she only said, “You’re imagining things.”
The thing about Yoonchae was that she got flustered in stages.
First came suspicion.
Then denial.
Then realization.
Then complete system shutdown.
Megan intended to witness every single stage firsthand.
Practice itself was chaos.
People yelling counts.
Music restarting every ten seconds.
Somebody dropping a water bottle dramatically enough to interrupt rehearsal.
Standard.
But Megan noticed something interesting.
Every single time she stretched or lifted her arms or adjusted her hoodie, Yoonchae’s eyes flicked over automatically.
Not obvious enough for others to notice.
But Megan noticed.
Oh, she noticed.
At one point during break, Megan caught Yoonchae staring openly for almost three full seconds before snapping out of it.
“What?” Yoonchae demanded instantly.
Megan smirked.
“You tell me.”
“Nothing.”
“Mhm.”
“Actually shut up.”
Megan laughed so hard she nearly choked on her water.
This was easier than expected.
Later that night, Megan resumed research.
Which was absolutely a normal sentence.
She typed:
“How to flirt casually without being cringe.”
The results were terrible.
One article literally suggested:
“Maintain eye contact and ask engaging questions.”
Megan rolled her eyes.
She already knew how to flirt.
The issue was that Yoonchae combusted under pressure.
Megan needed balance.
Enough flirting to make her blush.
Not enough to make her flee the scene.
Like seasoning.
Or chemical warfare.
Same concept.
Then she searched:
“How to do waist guiding naturally.”
Most videos demonstrated it while walking through crowds.
Okay.
Easy enough.
One hand lightly at the waist.
Gentle pressure.
Protective vibe.
Megan practiced absentmindedly on a pillow before realizing how ridiculous she looked.
“…I need hobbies.”
Still.
It was effective.
Then came the thumb thing research.
Which unfortunately sent her into a spiral because apparently there were multiple versions.
Thumb brushing over knuckles.
Thumb against cheek during kisses.
Thumb tracing someone’s wrist.
Every example made comment sections absolutely lose their minds.
Human beings were fascinating.
Megan tested the motion against her own hand thoughtfully.
Okay yeah.
She got it now.
There was something weirdly intimate about small gestures.
Not dramatic.
Just careful.
Intentional.
That kind of affection always hit harder.
Eventually she collapsed sideways onto her bed again, staring at her ceiling with her phone against her chest.
This was so stupid.
In the best way possible.
Because honestly?
She already loved making Yoonchae happy.
Loved making her laugh.
Loved watching her get all smiley and shy over tiny things.
But now it felt like she’d been handed an instruction manual.
And Megan absolutely intended to study it thoroughly.
By Thursday, her notes app literally contained a checklist.
- ABS/BICEPS ✔
-public flirting
-waist guiding
-thumb thing
-slow kisses
-head tilt (already elite at this)
She stared at the list proudly.
Then added:
-make yoonchae explode probably
Perfect.
No notes.
Friday arrived faster than expected.
And with it came opportunity.
They were going out after practice with friends.
Public setting.
Perfect environment.
Megan zipped up her hoodie slowly while staring into the mirror.
Game time.
Meanwhile, entirely unaware she was about to become the victim of concentrated flirtation tactics, Yoonchae was somewhere across the dorms peacefully existing.
Poor girl.
Truly.
She had no idea what was coming.
______
The first sign something was wrong should’ve been the outfit.
Yoonchae noticed it immediately when Megan walked out after practice.
Black cropped hoodie.
Low-rise cargos.
Sleeves pushed up.
Chain necklace.
And, most importantly, absolutely criminal arm definition under the restaurant lights.
Yoonchae stopped mid-sentence.
“…oh brother.”
Megan looked over innocently. “What?”
“You look suspicious.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is.”
Sophia snorted from nearby. “Why do you sound scared?”
“Because she’s acting weird today,” Yoonchae accused.
Megan gasped dramatically. “You wound me.”
“No seriously. She keeps staring at me.”
“Maybe you’re just stare-worthy.”
“SEE?”
Everybody immediately started yelling.
“OOOOHHHH.”
“Nahhh she got you.”
“That was smooth actually.”
Yoonchae’s entire face turned pink instantly.
“Can you guys literally be quiet for one second.”
Megan had to physically bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing.
Operation Make Yoonchae Malfunction was progressing beautifully.
The group headed toward the restaurant together, loud and chaotic and taking up way too much sidewalk space. Manon was playing music from her phone. Lara and Daniela were arguing about whether cereal counted as soup. Sophia was threatening everybody with french fries she hadn’t even bought yet.
Normal behavior.
Yoonchae walked beside Megan, hoodie sleeves covering half her hands.
Megan glanced down.
Cute.
Dangerously cute actually.
The urge to grab her hand nearly destroyed the last of Megan’s self-control.
But no.
Patience.
This was an art form.
The streets were crowded tonight, people brushing past constantly under glowing storefront lights. The city buzzed around them, warm and alive and noisy.
Perfect setup.
Megan saw her opportunity immediately when a group of people nearly cut between them.
Without thinking too hard about it, she placed a hand lightly against the small of Yoonchae’s back and guided her closer.
Smooth.
Natural.
Easy.
But Yoonchae reacted like Megan had plugged her into an electrical outlet.
She stumbled half a step.
Then looked at Megan so fast it was almost concerning.
Megan kept her expression perfectly calm.
“You almost got lost,” she said casually.
Yoonchae stared.
“Oh.”
Megan’s hand stayed there another second.
Warm through the fabric of her hoodie.
Gentle pressure.
Exactly like the videos.
Yoonchae’s brain visibly blue-screened.
Sophia looked back at them mid-conversation and immediately narrowed her eyes.
“…wait.”
Megan removed her hand innocently.
“What?”
Sophia pointed between them. “Something weird is happening.”
“Nothing’s happening,” Yoonchae said way too quickly.
“Exactly,” Megan agreed.
Both of them sounded guilty beyond belief.
Sophia gasped. “OH MY GOD.”
“Stop yelling,” Yoonchae whispered aggressively.
But Megan could see it.
That tiny flustered smile Yoonchae kept trying to hide.
Worth it.
Absolutely worth it.
The restaurant itself was busy and warm, full of overlapping conversations and clattering dishes. Neon signs glowed against the walls while music played softly overhead.
The hostess led them toward a long booth.
Yoonchae slid in first.
Megan immediately sat beside her.
Obviously.
There was no universe where she wasn’t going to sit next to her girlfriend.
As everyone settled in and argued over appetizers, Megan leaned back against the booth, arm stretched casually behind Yoonchae.
Not touching.
Just there.
Yoonchae noticed immediately anyway.
Megan saw the exact moment she became aware of it because her shoulders straightened slightly.
Cute.
“Should we get fries for the table?” Daniela asked.
“Yes,” everybody answered instantly.
Yoonchae reached for the menu at the same time Megan did.
Their hands bumped.
Yoonchae pulled back automatically.
Megan didn’t.
Instead she tilted her head slightly.
“Oh sorry,” she said softly.
And there it was.
That look again.
Yoonchae blinked at her once, visibly distracted.
Megan nearly lost composure right there.
The head tilt thing was insane actually.
How had she never realized this worked?
Yoonchae cleared her throat. “You’re being weirdly nice.”
“I’m always nice.”
“No you’re not.”
“That’s true,” Sophia cut in immediately.
“Traitor,” Megan muttered.
The waiter arrived to take drink orders.
Yoonchae asked for lemonade.
Megan already knew she would because she always ordered lemonade at restaurants and then stole everybody else’s fries afterward like a tiny criminal.
The waiter nodded and turned toward Megan.
“And for you?”
Megan answered, but her attention was mostly on Yoonchae beside her.
Because Yoonchae kept sneaking glances.
Tiny quick ones.
At her arms.
At her stomach whenever the cropped hoodie shifted.
Then immediately away again.
Megan felt unstoppable.
Once drinks arrived, the conversations split into smaller groups.
Sophia was showing Lara some TikTok drama.
Daniela was trying to convince Manon aliens were real.
Meanwhile Yoonchae was focused very intensely on peeling the label off her straw wrapper like her life depended on it.
Megan leaned slightly closer.
“You okay there?”
“Mhm.”
“You seem nervous.”
“I’m literally drinking lemonade.”
“That didn’t answer my question.”
Yoonchae finally looked over.
Big mistake.
Because Megan was already watching her with that stupid soft amused expression that always made Yoonchae forget how language worked.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Yoonchae mumbled.
“Like what?”
“Like… that.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” Yoonchae complained quietly.
Megan smiled.
Then, because she genuinely couldn’t help herself, she reached over and brushed imaginary lint off Yoonchae’s sleeve.
Tiny touch.
Barely anything.
Still devastating apparently.
Yoonchae inhaled sharply like she’d just remembered oxygen existed.
Megan had to look away before she started laughing.
This was incredible.
Food finally arrived, immediately turning the table chaotic.
Everybody reached for fries at once.
Sophia yelled because somebody stole hers.
Lara almost knocked over a drink.
Yoonchae laughed so hard at something Daniela said that she leaned sideways into Megan’s shoulder for a second without thinking.
Megan froze.
Not visibly.
But internally?
Fireworks.
Because casual affection from Yoonchae always felt illegal somehow.
Like she’d just been handed something precious.
Yoonchae realized what she’d done a second later and started pulling away immediately.
Megan reacted before she could think about it.
Her hand landed lightly on Yoonchae’s waist under the table.
Just enough to stop her.
Yoonchae went completely still.
Megan leaned closer, voice low enough only she could hear.
“You can stay.”
Oh.
Oh that did damage.
Yoonchae’s ears turned bright red instantly.
Megan almost folded on the spot.
Jesus christ.
She was cute.
Like absurdly cute.
The rest of dinner continued with Megan alternating between genuinely enjoying herself and strategically ruining Yoonchae’s emotional stability.
Every time Yoonchae said something funny, Megan laughed a little too warmly.
Every time Yoonchae looked at her, Megan held eye contact just long enough to matter.
And every single time Yoonchae got flustered?
Megan felt victorious.
Eventually the group left the restaurant and wandered toward a nearby convenience store for snacks.
Night air wrapped around them cool and breezy.
The city lights reflected off wet pavement from earlier rain.
Yoonchae walked slightly ahead this time, talking animatedly with Sophia.
Megan watched her for a second.
Then noticed the way her hoodie rode up slightly when she laughed.
Cute.
Again.
Always cute.
How was that fair?
At one point the sidewalk narrowed from construction barriers, forcing everyone closer together.
Megan stepped behind Yoonchae automatically.
Her hand returned to the small of her back without hesitation this time.
Guiding.
Steadying.
Protective.
Yoonchae nearly walked directly into the barrier anyway because she got distracted.
“Careful,” Megan laughed softly.
Yoonchae turned around, scandalized.
“You cannot keep doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“That!”
Megan widened her eyes innocently. “Helping you walk?”
“You know exactly what you’re doing.”
“Actually I don’t.”
“You’re evil.”
“A little.”
Yoonchae stared at her another second before hiding her face inside her sleeves.
Megan nearly combusted.
God.
No TikTok repost could’ve prepared her for how adorable this was in real life.
By the time they all ended up back at the dorm common room later that night, everyone was tired but still weirdly energetic in the way groups got after being together too long.
Sophia and Daniela were sprawled across the couch arguing over music.
Lara was stealing everybody’s snacks.
Someone had turned on a random reality show nobody was actually watching.
Megan sat cross-legged on the floor beside the couch while Yoonchae sat above her scrolling through TikTok.
Everything felt warm and easy.
Comfortable.
Megan glanced up.
Yoonchae was biting back smiles at something on her screen.
Cute.
Again.
Actually ridiculous.
Then Sophia randomly looked over and said, “Megan you’ve been feeling yourself all day.”
The room immediately reacted.
“OHHHH.”
“She kinda has.”
“Wait she actually has.”
Megan burst out laughing.
“What does that even mean?”
“It means you’ve been acting like the main character since practice,” Daniela said.
“That’s because I am the main character.”
“Ew,” Yoonchae muttered automatically.
Megan looked up at her with mock offense.
“You’re supposed to support me.”
“I support you privately.”
“That’s fake.”
Yoonchae grinned despite herself.
Then Sophia squinted suddenly.
“Wait lowkey though,” she said slowly. “Your arms look kinda insane today.”
Megan blinked.
Oh?
Oh this was the moment.
She sat up straighter immediately.
“Guys,” she announced dramatically, “be honest. Am I ripped?”
Everybody started laughing instantly.
“You did not just ask that.”
“BRO.”
“The ego is crazy.”
Megan grinned shamelessly.
“No seriously.”
Then she flexed.
Not even hard.
Just enough.
Unfortunately for Yoonchae, she happened to look over at exactly the wrong moment.
Her eyes widened.
Then froze.
Megan saw it happen in real time.
The realization.
The staring.
The visible short-circuiting.
“Oh my god,” Sophia yelled. “YOONCHAE’S FACE.”
Yoonchae snapped out of it instantly. “What face?!”
“That one!”
“There is no face!”
Megan was trying so hard not to laugh she almost fell sideways.
“You okay there?” she asked sweetly.
Yoonchae looked at her for one dangerous second.
Then muttered, “I think you should be quieter actually.”
“But am I ripped?”
“No.”
Megan gasped dramatically.
“Wow.”
“Your ego was getting too big.”
“But you were staring.”
“I literally wasn’t.”
“You literally were,” Manon snorted.
Yoonchae covered her face with a pillow.
Everybody immediately lost it.
Megan leaned back against the couch, feeling unbearably pleased with herself.
Checklist status?
Abs and biceps: successful.
Flirting in public: devastatingly successful.
Waist guiding: catastrophic success.
Meanwhile above her, Yoonchae was still hiding inside a couch pillow while her ears remained bright red.
Megan looked up at her fondly.
Two chapters into this operation and her girlfriend was already fighting for survival.
Excellent.
_____
Yoonchae spent the next three days living in fear.
Not actual fear.
Just Megan fear.
Which was honestly worse sometimes.
Because once Megan decided something was funny, she committed to the bit with terrifying dedication.
And now she had information.
Dangerous information.
Yoonchae should’ve never reposted that stupid TikTok.
Actually no.
She should’ve never underestimated Megan’s investigative abilities.
Those were two different mistakes.
The worst part was that Megan wasn’t even being obnoxious about it.
That would’ve been easier.
Instead she was acting casual.
Too casual.
Which meant every tiny thing felt intentional now.
A hand on Yoonchae’s back while walking through doors.
A stupid smirk whenever she caught Yoonchae staring.
Leaning closer during conversations just enough to make Yoonchae’s brain stop functioning.
Psychological warfare.
That was what this was.
And Yoonchae was losing badly.
Very badly.
Monday evening found them alone in the dorm living room after practice. Most of the others had either gone showering or disappeared into their rooms.
The TV played quietly in the background, some random reality competition nobody was actually watching.
Yoonchae was sprawled across the couch scrolling mindlessly through TikTok while Megan sat beside her drinking iced coffee and pretending to be normal.
Keyword:
Pretending.
Because every few minutes Yoonchae could physically feel Megan looking at her.
Not subtle either.
Like fully staring.
Eventually she cracked.
“What.”
Megan blinked innocently. “Hm?”
“You keep looking at me.”
“Can I not admire my girlfriend?”
“That sentence sounded evil somehow.”
Megan laughed softly.
Yoonchae tried to focus back on her phone.
Failed instantly.
Because now she was hyperaware of Megan sitting beside her in a sleeveless gray shirt that honestly needed to be banned internationally.
This was targeted harassment at this point.
Yoonchae scrolled faster.
A cooking video.
Cat video.
Dance challenge.
Thirst trap.
She immediately scrolled away.
Too late.
Megan caught it.
“That was fast.”
“No it wasn’t.”
“You skipped that video like it insulted your family.”
Yoonchae sat up straighter. “Mind your business.”
“My business is literally you.”
“That’s horrifying actually.”
“And romantic.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Yoonchae tried so hard not to smile.
Failed again.
Tragic.
Megan leaned sideways against the couch cushions, watching her with that stupid fond expression that always made Yoonchae feel weirdly warm.
“You’re cute when you’re defensive.”
“Oh my god.”
“What?”
“You flirt constantly now.”
Megan gasped dramatically. “Are you accusing me of loving my girlfriend?”
“I’m accusing you of being gay.”
“Same thing.”
Yoonchae rolled her eyes so hard it hurt.
But before she could answer, Megan suddenly reached over.
Not for her hand.
Not her face.
Just casually adjusting the sleeve of Yoonchae’s hoodie where it had twisted slightly around her wrist.
Tiny movement.
Barely anything.
Except Megan’s thumb brushed softly across the inside of her wrist afterward.
Deliberate.
Slow.
Yoonchae forgot every language she’d ever learned.
Her entire body short-circuited instantly.
Megan definitely noticed too because the corners of her mouth twitched immediately.
“You okay?” she asked way too innocently.
Yoonchae stared at her.
Suspicious.
“You did that on purpose.”
“Did what?”
“The— the thumb—”
“The thumb thing?”
Yoonchae buried her face in a pillow immediately.
Megan laughed so hard she nearly spilled her coffee.
“This is so embarrassing for you,” Yoonchae mumbled into the pillow.
“For me?”
“Yes! Because you’re obsessed with me.”
Megan considered this.
Then nodded once.
“True.”
Yoonchae looked up slowly.
“…what.”
“I said true.”
“You can’t just admit that.”
“Why not?”
“Because then I can’t even argue!”
Megan grinned lazily. “Sounds like a you problem.”
Yoonchae threw the pillow directly at her face.
Megan caught it one-handed without breaking eye contact.
Show-off.
“See?” Yoonchae accused immediately. “That was cocky.”
“You liked it.”
“No I didn’t.”
“You’re blushing.”
“I hate you.”
Megan only smiled wider.
Then, before Yoonchae could recover properly, Megan reached over again.
This time taking her hand fully.
Yoonchae’s brain immediately prepared for impact.
Because now she knew.
Now every movement mattered.
Megan intertwined their fingers slowly while still talking casually about literally nothing.
Something about practice schedules.
Completely normal conversation.
Meanwhile her thumb kept brushing softly over Yoonchae’s knuckles.
Back and forth.
Absentminded-looking.
Gentle.
Yoonchae was genuinely starting to understand why people lost their minds over this.
It felt unfair somehow.
Like cheating.
“You’re doing it again,” she whispered weakly.
Megan tilted her head. “Doing what?”
“The thumb thing.”
“Oh.”
Pause.
Then deliberately, Megan brushed her thumb over Yoonchae’s hand again.
Yoonchae inhaled sharply.
Megan’s eyes sparkled instantly.
“Ohhh,” she said softly. “That bad?”
Yoonchae yanked her hand back and covered her face dramatically.
“You’re SICK.”
Megan looked delighted.
“You reposted it.”
“I didn’t think you’d turn into a menace about it!”
“That sounds like poor planning on your part.”
Yoonchae groaned loudly enough to concern nearby wildlife.
Later that night, things somehow got worse.
Or better.
Depending who you asked.
They ended up alone in the kitchen around midnight because Yoonchae wanted ramen and Megan claimed emotional support responsibilities.
Which translated to sitting on the counter watching Yoonchae cook while providing absolutely zero assistance.
“You’ve contributed nothing,” Yoonchae informed her while stirring noodles.
“I’m contributing vibes.”
“You’re contributing stress.”
“Still contribution.”
Yoonchae snorted despite herself.
The kitchen lighting was dim and warm, soft enough to make everything feel quieter than usual. Outside the windows the city looked sleepy, lights glowing against the dark sky.
Megan watched Yoonchae move around the kitchen in oversized sweatpants and one of Megan’s hoodies.
Which honestly.
Dangerous sight.
Very dangerous sight.
“What?” Yoonchae asked suddenly without turning around.
“How do you know I’m looking at you?”
“I can feel it.”
“That’s dramatic.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“True.”
Yoonchae smiled faintly to herself before turning off the stove.
When she turned back around though, Megan was still watching her with that same soft expression.
Not teasing this time.
Just looking.
Yoonchae’s stomach flipped weirdly.
“What?” she asked quieter now.
Megan shrugged slightly.
“You’re pretty.”
Immediate damage.
Critical hit actually.
Yoonchae looked down at the ramen cups in her hands.
“I literally look awful right now.”
“You look cute right now.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’m wearing your giant hoodie and look half dead.”
“And somehow you’re still adorable. Explain that.”
Yoonchae felt heat crawl into her face instantly.
Megan hopped down from the counter then, stepping closer.
Too close.
Dangerously close.
Yoonchae’s brain immediately sounded alarms.
“Megan,” she warned weakly.
“Hm?”
“You’re doing the face.”
“What face?”
“The—”
She lost the sentence entirely when Megan reached up and tucked loose hair behind her ear.
Gentle.
Careful.
And there it was again.
That stupid thumb.
Brushing lightly against Yoonchae’s cheek afterward.
Yoonchae’s entire nervous system exited the chat.
Megan noticed immediately.
Which was unfortunate for everyone involved.
“Oh my god,” Megan whispered like she’d discovered scientific proof of something. “You really like that.”
Yoonchae looked horrified.
“Stop saying it out loud!”
“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
“You say that every day.”
“Because it’s true every day.”
Yoonchae hated how warm she felt.
Hated it.
Actually no she loved it.
Which was worse.
Megan’s hand lingered lightly against her jaw.
Not moving.
Just there.
And suddenly the teasing atmosphere shifted.
Softer now.
Quieter.
Yoonchae’s heartbeat stumbled slightly.
Because Megan was looking at her differently.
Still fond.
Still playful.
But gentler.
Like she was holding something delicate.
“You’re staring again,” Yoonchae whispered.
“Can you blame me?”
“That line was terrible.”
“And yet you’re blushing.”
Yoonchae opened her mouth to argue.
Then closed it again immediately when Megan leaned closer.
Not enough to kiss her yet.
Just enough that Yoonchae could feel her warmth.
“Oh,” Yoonchae breathed before she could stop herself.
Megan smiled slightly at that.
Then finally kissed her.
Slow.
Exactly like the repost.
Which immediately explained why Yoonchae liked it so much.
Because fast kisses were fun. Quick and playful and messy sometimes.
But slow kisses?
Those felt intentional.
Like being chosen carefully.
Megan kissed her like she had nowhere else to be.
One hand resting lightly against Yoonchae’s waist while the other stayed soft against her cheek.
No rushing.
Just warm and patient and devastatingly gentle.
Yoonchae actually melted.
Like physically.
Her hands grabbed weakly at Megan’s hoodie because her knees suddenly felt suspiciously unreliable.
Megan smiled slightly against her mouth.
Which somehow made everything worse.
Yoonchae kissed her back immediately, slower now too, trying not to completely lose composure.
Failed.
Obviously.
Because Megan tilted her head slightly deeper into the kiss and Yoonchae genuinely forgot her own name for a second.
This girl was evil.
Actually evil.
When they finally pulled apart, Yoonchae just stared at her silently.
Megan looked far too pleased with herself.
“…wow,” Yoonchae managed weakly.
Megan laughed softly.
“Wow good or wow bad?”
Yoonchae narrowed her eyes.
“You know exactly what you’re doing now.”
“Maybe.”
“Megan.”
“What?”
“You cannot keep weaponizing TikTok reposts against me.”
“That sounds like quitter talk.”
Yoonchae groaned and dropped her forehead dramatically against Megan’s shoulder.
Megan immediately wrapped her arms around her.
Warm.
Comfortable.
Safe.
Annoyingly perfect.
“This is your fault,” Yoonchae muttered into her hoodie.
“How?”
“I reposted one thing and now you’ve evolved.”
Megan laughed quietly above her head.
“Well,” she said, voice smug again, “to be fair…”
Yoonchae already knew she wouldn’t like the next sentence.
“You did technically create this monster.”
“Oh my god.”