Ryan's POV / Monday Morning
Breakfast was quiet. Tension-free on the surface, but underneath? Shifting like tectonic plates.
Elise laughed softly at something James said about his playlist choices—"No one should start their day with dubstep, James." Travis passed her the strawberry jam without her asking. Twan, bless him, proudly presented a slightly burnt tamagoyaki with a flourish and an expectant grin.
Minho didn't say much. But when Elise asked if anyone had notes from last week's math review, his hand moved before anyone else's. He slid his neatly written notes across the table, his gaze barely lifting. Their eyes met.
And I swear—for a second—the air in the room felt heavier. Brighter.
Elise took the notebook slowly. "Thanks."
Minho gave a slight nod, then focused on his orange juice like it held all the answers in the world. That boy was so deep in denial, he needed a GPS, a passport, and maybe a rescue mission.
...
A few minutes later, all of the guys are ready to head to school, walking together as always. (Elise was still preparing. Girls am I right?)
As we stepped out of the dorm and into the crisp May air, bags slung over our shoulders and sunlight dappling the sidewalks, James said casually, "You know, I think I might ask Elise out for real."
Twan stumbled a step. "Like... date-date?"
"Yeah." James shrugged. "I've been thinking about it."
From behind us, I saw Minho's shoulder tense. He didn't say a word. Didn't flinch. Didn't comment. Just adjusted the strap of his bag and started walking ahead pace steady, jaw tight. I exhaled and rubbed the back of my neck. Here we go.
Elise's POV
Throughout the day, I tried to ignore the weight of it, the kiss, the silence, the way Minho barely looked at me since. But it followed me. In the hallway. In the dorm. In the quiet moments between laughter and late-night homework. It clung to me like a shadow I couldn't outrun.
It'd been over a week. A week of pretending things were normal when nothing was. I was still Elise Jung, still the only girl at Heiran High... but now I was also the girl who kissed Minho Miller in the stairwell. Who hadn't talked about it since. We hadn't said a word.
Not about that night. Not about the kiss. Not about anything that mattered. So, I decided. I'd talk to him. I needed to know what it meant—if it meant anything at all. The perfect chance came during lunch.
The others were arguing over what drink went best with tonkatsu. Travis said strawberry milk. Twan nearly flipped the table. Minho was at the vending machine. Alone. I slid beside him, my voice lower than a whisper. "Can we talk?"
He glanced at me. His brow twitched. "Now?"
"Yeah." I replied.
He didn't answer, just nodded once and headed for the back courtyard. I followed, heart knocking against my ribs like it was trying to escape. The sun was warm. The breeze cooler. Spring was still making up its mind.
We stopped by the edge of the flower beds. Tulips were finally blooming.
I crossed my arms. "I want to talk about what happened."
His shoulders tensed. "Nothing happened."
That stung. "Really? You kissed me. That's nothing?"
"I mean—" He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "It was... a moment."
"A moment," I echoed, biting the inside of my cheek. "Was it a mistake?"
Minho didn't answer. That silence? Louder than yelling.
"So, what? You regret it?" I asked.
Still nothing.
"I just—" I shook my head. "You act like you like me. Then you don't. Then you kiss me. Then you ignore me." I added.
"I'm not ignoring you," he muttered.
"You're not talking to me either."
"I'm trying not to screw this up, okay?" Minho finally snapped, turning to me.
"Screw what up?"
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked away.
"Minho," I said, more softly this time. "Just be honest. Please."
He inhaled deeply. "I do like you. But I can't... do this."
My chest tightened. "Why?"
"Because we all live under the same roof. Because we're friends. Because the guys like you. Because one kiss already messed with my head more than it should've."
"So you'd rather pretend it didn't happen?"
"I'd rather protect you from everything that could happen if we don't."
The ache in my chest was sharp. I swallowed it down. "Fine."
He looked at me then, really looked at me, and the storm behind his eyes nearly broke me. But I turned and walked back inside anyway.
...
That early in the evening, the dorm was quiet.
The others were still at practice, or maybe just taking longer to come back. I'd claimed the living room couch, wrapped in a blanket burrito, flipping through my notes and trying not to think about Minho. And failing miserably. Then my phone buzzed. It was Josh.
("Hey. You free?)
"Kind of. Why?"
("I'm outside your dorm. I was walking home and thought I'd pass by.")
I walked to the window, peeked through the curtains, and sure enough there he was. Standing across the street, wearing a knitted shirt, hands in his pockets. Pacing like he was debating whether to knock or not.
I then grabbed my own hoodie, and slipped into my shoes.
As soon as I stepped outside, he smiled when I said. "Stalking, again?"
"I was literally heading back to my own dorm," he said, laughing. "But yeah, maybe a little stalking."
I raised a brow. "You walked all the way here just to pass by?"
He shrugged. "I thought maybe you needed something less complicated."
"From you?"
"Hey." He put a hand to his chest in mock offense. "I can be low-drama."
I laughed despite myself.
"Walk with me?" he asked. "Just around the block. I won't keep you long."
I hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. One loop."
We walked side by side, the early spring breeze tugging at my sleeves. Cherry blossom petals danced along the sidewalk. It was... weirdly peaceful. And then, out of nowhere, he said it.
"I have feelings for you, Elise."
I stopped walking. "What?"
Josh didn't look at me at first. "I said I have feelings for you."
I blinked. "Josh, I—"
"You don't have to say anything," he cut in quickly. "I know. I know it's complicated. And I know I'm not exactly on the guys' good side. But I meant what I said."
I stayed silent. My mind was already running off in twenty directions.
"I didn't get close to you because of them," he said, slower this time. "I didn't flirt with you to make anything weird."
I tilted my head. "So... why did you?"
He hesitated, just for a second. "I don't know. I guess I was just curious at first. But then... I actually started to like being around you."
I blinked, caught off guard by how sincere that sounded.
Josh rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the pavement like it might help him find the right words. "I know I was a decent guy when we first met. I've made my mistakes. But this... this isn't one of them."
He met my eyes.
"It's not about them, Elise. It's about you."
The streetlight buzzed softly above us, casting golden glows against the sidewalk. I didn't know what to say. My brain kept looping between Minho's kiss, his silence, and now this. Josh, standing in front of me, trying to offer something simple and real.
"I don't expect you to say anything," he added, softer. "I just wanted you to know."
He walked me back to the front step and reached out to ruffle my hair. "I'll see you around, yeah?"
I managed a small nod.
"Night, Jung." He said goodbye.
And then— The sound of footsteps. From the other end of the block, the guys returned all at once. Ryan, Twan, James, Travis, and Minho. Gym bags slung over shoulders, sweaty, talking and laughing about something—until they saw us.
Josh noticed too. He raised a hand casually. "Yo."
Ryan gave a slow nod, polite but unreadable.
Twan blinked. "The hell?"
James crossed his arms, lips pursed in the beginnings of a smirk.
Travis said nothing. Just watched.
Minho's eyes didn't leave me.
Josh looked at me again. "Later," he said, then turned and walked down the road toward his dorm, hands in his pockets like nothing had happened.
I stepped aside to let the guys pass, trying to act like my heart wasn't pounding in my ears.
James slung his bag over his shoulder. "You good?"
"Yeah," I said quickly. "Just got some air."
He nodded like he bought it, even if I wasn't sure I did.
And that was that.
The dorm lights buzzed faintly overhead. Someone tossed their bag onto the floor with a thud. Travis disappeared into the kitchen to microwave something. Ryan flopped onto the couch like it owed him rent.
Minho unsurprisingly—headed straight to the shared sink to rinse off the day's grime, still silent. Twan and James lingered behind. I stood awkwardly by the shoe rack, unlacing one sneaker. My fingers felt clumsy.
"Hey," James said suddenly, looking at me.
I glanced up. "Yeah?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "You free tomorrow?"
"Um... I think so? Depends. Tomorrow's a school day though"
The other guys glanced over, not saying anything—but absolutely listening.
James cleared his throat, but his tone stayed light. "I was thinking we could go out. Just us. Like... a date."
My sneaker dropped with a soft thunk.
Twan did a slow, exaggerated blink from behind James' shoulder. Minho, from across the room, paused with the towel in his hand just for half a second. Travis closed the microwave door a little too hard.
"A date?" I repeated.
James offered a lazy grin. But this one... didn't feel like his usual playful smirk. "Yeah. Unless you think it'd be weird." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "You've been with us for a while now. Figured it's about time someone made an actual move."
"An actual move?" Twan echoed, eyebrows practically on his hairline.
Ryan, seated on the couch with a cup of tea, looked down into his mug like it had all the answers.
"I just thought I'd ask," James added. "You don't have to decide now. But I meant it." He didn't wink. Didn't nudge. No joke to deflect the tension. Just that look—steady, direct.
I nodded, slowly. "Okay. I'll... think about it."
James smiled again, this time a little softer, and turned to head toward the hallway. "Cool."
As soon as he left the room, Twan whispered, "He actually said the d-word. Like, date-date."
Travis leaned against the fridge, arms crossed. "Well. That escalated."
Minho? He didn't say anything. Just picked up his towel and disappeared toward the hallway without a word...