Chapter Text
Mingyu has always been a strong proponent of fate as a concept.
If something is meant to be, it will be. You were meant to meet every single person you ever encounter, even if only for a brief moment.
Snapping wishbones, picking up pretty rocks, love at first sight. It's silly, but it's nice to be romantic about this singular life we are given, an involuntary gift that never goes to waste, shucked into the back of a closet or a donation bin. A life, a chance, an opportunity to love.
Oh, love. God, Mingyu loves love. Which makes the whole fate thing an even bigger deal. Every moment spent outside is an opportunity to meet the next person to make your heart race.
Wonwoo makes fun of her for it, but that's just because she's hung up on the bartender from downtown who won't give her the time of day. That's not love. It's something more like psychosis. But Mingyu is kind, and loves Wonwoo, so she refuses to say that part out loud.
(And also, they're roommates—she would very readily smother Mingyu to death with a pillow in her sleep.)
The point is, love and fate are everywhere, skipping along hand in hand, desperate to find their next client. Or maybe victim, depending on how you look at it. Mingyu takes this as a sign to fall in love a little bit every day, with the books she reads and the songs she listens to and the food she eats. Everywhere, anything, all the time. Love and fate, baby. Pure magic.
It's because of the philosophy that she's allowed to crush on a stranger on the metro, because she was meant to see that gorgeous girl with the fluffy coat and the clearest skin and just the cutest moles.
Beauty marks. Another article of fate. The universe loved that girl so much that it printed a piece of itself onto her face, in the optimal spot for cheek kisses. It's like a siren call, really. A magnet, pulling her forward and beckoning her to pucker her lips. She could, right now, if it weren't for—
"If you move again I am going to have a conniption fit."
Jihoon is one of Mingyu's best friends. She is also, objectively, the fucking worst about things like this, a natural born fate-blocker. She's the least romantic person Mingyu knows, despite the whole tortured artist thing she has going on.
"I didn't even do anything!"
Jihoon stares up at her, their height difference comical, with the most grating look on her face.
"You're trying to get a better look at that girl over there. Long hair, totally your type. Moles."
"Beauty marks," Mingyu mutters to herself, still unsubtly eyeing the girl as she taps away at her phone.
"Right," Jihoon says, deadpan, her ponytail swishing ever so slightly. "She's looking at you too, by the way. So try to act like you haven't been creeping on her this entire time."
"I was not—"
The words die in her throat as Mingyu makes eye contact with the girl in question, looking up from where she's sat. Mingyu's standing and also tall as all hell, so she towers over her even from across the car. Her eyes are beautiful, brown and full of this sweet mirth that should be bottled and made to drink. Her eyebrows are both upturned, an expression that sits presently in between questioning and amused, staring back at Mingyu with a good natured smile.
Oh god. Too pretty.
Mingyu averts her gaze, face burning despite not having said a word, hissing at Jihoon.
"I was not creeping. I wasn't even looking at her."
"You're red as a fire truck, and you want me to believe you weren't staring at her?"
The girl shifts in her seat, cocking her head to the side, drawing Mingyu's attention back over. She hasn't given up on their little staring contest, leaning forward a little. The stacked necklaces around her neck dangle tantalizingly in front of her cleavage, visible with the half-zipped coat.
She flutters her lashes like it's a dare, and Mingyu isn't sure if fate is trying to give her a sign or leave her for dead. She turns back to Jihoon.
"Okay, so maybe I was. Whatever. What's your damage?"
"My damage is that we're packed in here like fucking sardines and you keep fidgeting because you're too nervous to just go up to her and say hi. I don't think there's been even a second where you were just still."
"What? No, I'm not."
Mingyu spares another glance at the angel-faced, otherworldly being making eyes at her from the other side of the car. Fuck. Still staring. She's smirking now too, like she's able to read Mingyu's mind. Or maybe just her body language. She's never been one for subtlety.
"Okay," Jihoon says, monotone but slightly entertained. A dangerous tone for her, really. "Then go say hi."
The train rumbles, pitching the pair forward a bit, stumbling into strangers who find themselves in the same predicament.
"I would," Mingyu lies, tone dripping with faux-disappointment. "But like you said, it's packed in here. I wouldn't even know how to get to h—"
Jihoon will be the first to tell you that she isn't a meddler. And generally it's true—she minds her business, doesn't ask too many questions, and gets all her information purely through observation. An angry, tiny surveillance state agent compiling data for a case file on you and your every whim. It's equal parts scary and impressive.
That being said, the script flips once you piss her off. Mingyu, unfortunately, has played her hand for the day and ends up shoved harshly in the stranger's direction. A few men just a few inches shorter groan in protest, but it goes in one ear and out the other as she finds herself staring down at the stranger, cursing her friend in her head. She's clearly been spending too much time with Jeonghan and Jisoo these days.
Mingyu just barely catches herself before she can descend down onto the woman in question, face burning as she whips around to glare at Jihoon. The latter makes no move though, looking at her phone like she hadn't used every ounce of available strength to topple her over.
They really should stop hitting the gym together.
"Um, hi," Mingyu says, trying to right herself.
"Hi," unidentified-heaven-sent answers. "Did you come over here for something, or does your friend just really hate you?"
"Honestly, a little bit of both."
The train comes to a halt as they reach the next stop. Not Mingyu's, and judging by the fact that she's still seated, she's inclined to believe it isn't hers either. People begin to shuffle about, filing off as new people come and fill in the gaps they leave behind. As the seat to her right opens up, she pats it, a silent invitation to join her. Mingyu scrambles into it obediently like a dog awaiting a treat.
She giggles in response, like she's just realized she can make her do anything with just a single gesture. It's full and beautiful, because of course she's the kind of person that laughs with her whole chest—so warm that it threatens to melt Mingyu inside out just by way of proximity. Being this close, she can smell her perfume and probably whatever she moisturizes with, subtle but not muted. Hypnotizing.
"Okay, so what is it?"
Mingyu blinks. "Huh?"
"What did you come over for," she asks again, staring match ongoing. Her finely manicured pinky nail scratches the cuff of Mingyu's jacket sleeve, and she can't seem to drag her eyes away from the motion.
"Oh! Oh, um. I just..I really…You…"
Fate is a cruel, cruel mistress, subjecting her to what will be known as The Great Subway Fumble of 2025. Jihoon may never let her live this down. She has to say something, but the words are lodged in her throat, unwilling to make themselves known.
"I really like…your nails."
For the first time since she's acknowledged Mingyu's existence, she manages to break her ceaseless eye contact, eyes flicking over her fingers. "Oh, thanks! I just did them."
"You do your own nails?"
The nail set in question is intricate, with colors ranging from baby blue to indigo to eggshell white, some dotted with bubbles and some charms, even with looks to be some kind of moldable gel specifically for nail art. It's an extremely impressive set, and the average person would probably pay a good amount for them. But clearly, just as Mingyu had suspected, she is not the average person.
"Yeah! This isn't my best work, but it's good enough for now."
Mingyu nearly gapes at the insinuation that these nails are anything less than incredible, but holds her tongue as the woman leans in closer, giving a better view of the long, slender fingers that are kind of making Mingyu dizzy just by looking at them.
"I think they look really nice. Um, which is why I came over. To say that. So."
It's not that Mingyu is a coward. Well maybe it is, a little—but the truth of the matter is that most of the time, finding someone attractive in public is more of an idle pastime than anything else. Fate sends these people her way so that she can love them and whatever qualities they exude for the briefest of moments, and then she's fine a few days later. Those are the rules.
And this girl…she's month-long infatuation worthy. Mingyu can easily picture herself dreaming about an angel with divinely placed dots on her face every time she steps foot on the train, and that is mortifying. They weren't supposed to speak to each other, because that means that it'll become a real memory she has to live with, and she'll dance around in her psyche for longer than is probably socially acceptable.
It's why she's crashing and burning even harder than usual. Like, seriously. Mingyu has never gotten her nails done in her life. Originally out of pure disinterest, and eventually for…alternative reasons. She could not care less about this girl's nails.
Which is why Mingyu nearly laughs when she leans over and asks: "Do you want me to do yours?"
Mingyu's eyes flick down to her bare nails, not even a coat of clear polish decorating them. They're freshly cut, too, trimmed and filed neatly. It's hard to even imagine what long acrylics or press-ons might look like, long and sharp and protruding from her fingers.
It also makes her response of: "Um, yeah. Sure," even more ridiculous than the compliment to begin with. She can barely believe she even let the words leave her mouth.
It's just that if this girl asked her to jump, Mingyu would immediately start googling which cliff would be most optimal for it. Not a matter of how high, but how hard do you want me to fall? Can I ruin myself for you? Is that what you want? Will you let me?
Mingyu tries to take a deep breath. This is spiraling out of control a little too quickly for her taste.
The long hair tucked into the girl's coat spills out and over her shoulder, tickling Mingyu. Like she's teasing her without even realizing. Every nerve ending in her body lights up in response, aching to be touched by her in any way possible.
"Give me your phone."
"What?"
"Your phone," she repeats, trying not to laugh again. Mingyu would feel worse about it if she didn't want to kiss the damn smile off her face. "Let me put my number in."
"Right," she mutters, handing it over clumsily as she unlocks it.
"Your lock screen is cute," she comments, noting the picture of her, Wonwoo, and Seungcheol all cuddled on top of each other in a nap-pile, taken at the tail end of finals week last semester. It's one of her favorites, but she can't help but feel violently embarrassed by it now.
"Thanks," she replies, trying and failing not to somehow blush even harder.
"I'm Seokmin, by the way."
With zero exaggerative grace, Mingyu is completely sure the sky opened up and a choir of angels began to sing the second she heard it. Beautiful girl, beautiful laugh, beautiful nails, beautiful name.
Seokmin hands her phone back, brushing their hands together. Mingyu can't quite tell if it's intentional, but for her own sanity, she chooses to believe it's entirely accidental.
"I'm Mingyu."
"I know," Seokmin says, unable to hide her laugh this time around. She leans even closer, poking at Mingyu's chest. "It's monogrammed on your jacket."
Mingyu blinks, looking down at the gift her mother had gotten her a few years ago, back when she was in her labeling/bedazzling phase. It was a brutal time, and Mingyu's name is now visible on no less than twenty articles of clothing in her closet.
"Oh, yeah. I knew that."
Seokmin giggles again like she can't help it, and Mingyu thinks she might be on cloud nine right now. In this unbearably stuffy train car with children sniffling and businessmen whisper-yelling harshly into their phones, Seokmin is the only thing that seems to matter. She pulls Mingyu's hand up to her face, inspecting her nails, rubbing light circles into the skin.
"Do you know what color you want," Seokmin asks, her voice dropping to a whisper. Mingyu strains her ears as much as possible, desperate to not miss a single thing that she offers her.
Mingyu swallows. "Uh. I don't—I haven't thought about it."
"I think you should do red," she continues, eyes flicking back to Mingyu like they've made their way home, the feeling of her heavy gaze familiar after such a short time. "Goes well with blue."
Now, she's one to jump the gun, sure, but Mingyu is ninety-nine percent sure that this girl is flirting with her. Dangerous, dangerous stuff.
"I trust your vision." Lame ass response. She doesn't even have a second to process the thought before her phone lights up with a text from Jihoon, affirming her.
From: Jihoon
you're fumbling like crazy rn
Mingyu just purses her lips and swipes the notification away as Seokmin drops her hand and pretends she didn't read the text too, even though they both clearly know that she did.
"Spam text," Mingyu mutters as they lurch to a stop, the intercom blaring the name of the station.
"Spam text," Seokmin repeats skeptically, smirking.
"Yes."
"Okay, I believe you."
"You don't," Mingyu pouts.
As the car finally clears enough for Seokmin to take her leave, she stands, brushing imaginary crumbs off her skirt, looming over Mingyu in her Doc Martens. "If you say it's a spam text, I believe it's a spam text. You seem like the honest type. A real gentleman."
Mingyu warms at the term, something fizzy and fluttery sent rushing through her stomach. "You're a good judge of character."
"I think so too," she agrees. She shifts her purse and runs her hands through her hair once before moving towards the exit, and Mingyu feels like her heart is going to sink through her stomach and dissolve in the acid.
But before she even gets the chance to miss her, Seokmin tosses her hair over her shoulder and glances back. "Mingyu."
"Yes?"
"Text me so we can set up a time for an appointment, okay? I hope you and your spam texter get home safe."
Jihoon tries to stifle her laugh and fails, jostling a man next to her as she does so.
Mingyu just stares as Seokmin walks away, hair swishing beautifully and hips swaying elegantly. It takes physical effort to tear her eyes away.
And just like that, the train doors shut, the vehicle pulling off and away from the girl with invisible wings and a faded halo spinning around her head. Mingyu makes her way over to Jihoon in a daze, phone clutched tightly in her grasp.
"Did that actually just happen?"
"You charmed her by being a loser."
"Why are you being so mean to me today," Mingyu whines.
"I'm always this mean to you."
Before Mingyu can protest, the train is screeching forward, causing them both to cling to the poles and handles for stability. They lapse into silence as the ride continues, Mingyu allowing her mind to wander in the meantime.
She wonders where Seokmin was headed—what she was dressed up for, or if that's her day-to-day attire. Is she usually that forward, or could she just read Mingyu like a goddamn book? Maybe she's the superstitious type, bolstered with confidence by a good reading from her horoscope. Maybe she could read Mingyu's chart, figure out the trajectory of their relationship before it even begins.
Was she even flirting for real, or just teasing? Is the offer to do Mingyu's nails a good one, or a cover for something more?
Is she thinking about Mingyu this much too?
Probably not, because it's only been fifteen minutes since they last saw each other. Jihoon is staring at her with a deadpan, yet knowing expression. "You're thinking way too much," she says matter-of-factly. "You always think way too much."
She really isn't one to talk, what, with the way her and Soonyoung have danced around each other for years. But it's for that same reason that she's perfectly qualified to do so. You can only be in that weird state of whatever-ship with Soonyoung and content with it if you turn your brain off and just let yourself be. Mingyu has never been very good at that, subject to trying to label things before they're even fully formed, half-baked and still gooey in the middle.
"I don't know how not to."
"Because you're a romantic. That's your whole thing. But you can relax, you know?"
"You're telling me if Soonyoung-unnie was flirting with you like that in public you wouldn't freak out a little?"
"Mingyu, she did hit on me in public. An entire masterclass of people, actually. That's how we ended up here. And at that point I was more annoyed by her existence than anything else. I get it, though. It's weird, when they're louder about it than you are."
"She makes me nervous. I barely know her, and I'm freaking out already. How do you deal with this?"
The tale of Soonyoung and Jihoon is one for another day, but can be oversimplified as Soonyoung leading a recreational dance class at their usual gym and blatantly favoring Jihoon over everyone else, to the point where she had to promise to entertain a coffee date afterwards to get her to stop laying it on so thick in front of almost forty other people.
Jihoon had been fuming, according to Seungkwan. But she'd also come home that day red as ever, flushed beyond belief, so it was safe to say that she was probably only angry that it was so public, not that it was happening at all. She'd probably liked it just as much as she'd hated it, to be honest.
The difference is that Jihoon was able to be normal about it, or at least pretend to be. Mingyu is a terrible actor, and lets her heartbeat speak for itself most of the time.
It's just that she's so bad at being normal about anything at all that she's still a little shaky with the aftershocks of talking to a beautiful girl, earlobes stained red, fingers clammy as she clutches her phone unnecessarily tight. All her brain can supply her with are spiraling, unruly trains of thought that all lead back to Seokmin, staring up at her like the pressure of her gaze could crack Mingyu right open and reveal whatever it is that she was looking for. She was searching for something, and Mingyu wants so badly to present this unknown treasure to her on a silver platter, adorned with diamonds that shine even half as bright as her eyes.
"Just don't get ahead of yourself. Send her a text and see what happens."
"And if she laughs in my face and I die alone?"
"Then she's an asshole and you met the fate of a tragic romanticist. Grab your bag, this is our stop."
Mingyu pouts in reply but listens, inhaling deeply as they step off the metro and onto the platform, greeted by the familiarity of the stop that's only a few blocks from her apartment.
It smells like shit. She loves this city.
"Mingyu," Jihoon says as they step into the light, ready to part ways, both ten minutes away in the opposite direction.
"Hm?"
"Don't be stupid. It's just a girl and a phone number. You have plenty of experience with the both of those."
Mingyu wants to argue on account of the fact that none of those phone numbers belonged to the living embodiment of light, but digresses and smiles instead. "Right. Bye, unnie."
Jihoon offers a wave before she turns fully. "Soonyoung says hi, by the way."
"Really? Did she text you?"
The shorter of the two smiles as her phone dings, right on cue. Sure enough, when Mingyu squints down at the screen, it's a text from Soonyoung. "She has now. She was stalking my location, I think."
And with that, Jihoon is smiling in the small and pretty way she always does whenever Soonyoung is concerned, like she's fighting against her own instincts but can't help but give in. Because she loves her.
Mingyu nearly laughs. For two people who aren't 'putting a label on it', they may just be the most married unmarried pair of people ever. Second only to Jeonghan and Seungcheol, if they even count. They're engaged, which is basically married, so it doesn't really matter.
God. Engaged. Mingyu loves weddings so much. It's one of those events where rampant romanticism is encouraged, indulged even. She'd been the one to catch the bride's bouquet at her aunt's wedding a year ago, and her face still heats up at the thought of watching a love of her own walk down the aisle, flowers scattered beneath her heels and gown rippling behind her like a premonition for happiness.
She'd look angelic.
Angelic…angel…great. Now she's thinking about Seokmin again. She has to get a grip, and fast.
But it's just her on the short walk back to the apartment, so she lets herself indulge in a little fantasizing for the time being, wondering if Seokmin likes PDA, if she'd let her hold her hand, if she'd want Mingyu to carry her bag even though she's perfectly capable.
It's not that she thinks she can't, Mingyu would just be honored by the privilege of making her life a little easier, in any way possible.
God, where's that cliff when she needs it?
By the time she's unlocking the door, Mingyu has planned months worth of dates with a girl she's only just met and spoken to for a couple minutes. She'd be embarrassed, if the two most embarrassing people she knows weren't sitting on the couch playing video games when she walked in, toeing off her sneakers.
"I'm home," she says, drawing out the last syllable as she settles herself on the arm of the sofa, watching as Seungcheol gets her ass beat mortifyingly by Wonwoo, who's not even glancing at the controls.
"Don't bother, they're too focused," Seungkwan says from where she was hidden on the floor, settled between Jeonghan's legs as they watch the madness unfold. Jeonghan coos a greeting as she scratches at Seungkwan's scalp affectionately. "There's money on the line."
Instead of flinching at the fact that there's three more people here than there should be, Mingyu just nods in understanding. Their apartment is a hub for activity, their friends coming and going as they please with little to no notice. Honestly, it's more surprising when it's just her and Wonwoo here.
"Oh, yeah? Who do you have your money on, Kwannie?"
"Cheol-unnie. Jeonghan is betting on Wonwoo."
Mingyu quirks a brow. "You're not rooting for your fiancee?"
"I only back winners."
"Baby," Seungcheol whines in that way that she always does. It looks like she tuned into the conversation once she heard the word Jeonghan. "Could you at least pretend that you think I'm gonna win?"
Jeonghan caresses the exposed skin of Seungcheol's leg, toying with the hem of her shorts. "Cheollie. I love you."
"I love you too," Seungcheol beams in reply, eyes leaving the screen for a split-second too long as they fill with love involuntarily. Just enough time for an unruffled Wonwoo to strike. "So much."
"No, let me finish," she says, watching as Seungcheol's character is obliterated by Wonwoo's. "I love you, but you fucking suck."
The TV flashes Wonwoo's victory screen, her character performing a celebratory dance on top of the victim's body. She readjusts her glasses and smiles in a way that would be polite or cute from anyone else, but is just shit-eating coming from her of all people. "Listen to your fiancee. She's pretty smart."
"Ughhhhh," Seungcheol and Seungkwan groan in unison, the former fishing her wallet out of her pocket and the latter opening up her banking app to make a transfer.
"I had faith in you," Seungkwan mutters, annoyed.
"Never bet against Wonwoo when it comes to video games. I learned that lesson a long, long time ago."
"Mmm," Seungkwan hums, leaning away from Jeonghan to stare up at Mingyu."Where were you anyway?"
"Went to the gym with Jihoon," Mingyu starts, recalling why she'd left the house in the first place. It honestly seems like it was light years away now, the metro encounter filling up her memory.
"Why do you have that look on your face," Wonwoo asks, features open and wide like a confused bird. It's kind of cute. Jeonghan seems to agree as she reaches up to tug on her cheek.
"What look," Mingyu laughs nervously, body heating up against her will.
Seungkwan squints, her Mingyu senses activating. She's perceptive like that, at least when it comes to her. They dated for a year, and have been friends for far longer, so she can very easily pick her apart like a primary schooler's science fair project.
"There was a girl," she gasps, pointing at Mingyu's blush, the way she fiddles with her fingers. "You met someone!"
Seungcheol gasps. "Ah? Really?"
It'd be easier to deny if there weren't four people all offering their undivided attention, her body language giving her away without a chance to even fight the accusation.
"Maybe," Mingyu mutters.
The room erupts into a cacophony of excitement and disbelief as Mingyu desperately tries to quiet them, waving her hands frantically. "Calm down! I don't even know if it's like that—"
Jeonghan raises her brow as she navigates to her own banking app on her phone, preening at the updated amount. "Yah, what do you mean?"
"Is this one of those situations where you just stared at her for fifteen minutes without saying hi and now you're convinced you've met your wife?"
Mingyu kind of wants to strangle Wonwoo for that, even though it's a justifiable question—she has a bit of a track record with things like this.
"No! I said hi. And I got her number."
The shouts and cheers return after that, Seungcheol leaning across the couch to slap her on the back repeatedly.
"Tell us everything!"
Mingyu's face falls into her hands as she tries to calm the raging blush on her face. "It's really nothing interesting."
"Words that means very little to the nosiest group of people you know."
She sighs and tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear. It's still damp from her gym shower, cold and light against her skin as it hangs a couple inches above her shoulders. It's getting a little long for her taste, and she makes a mental note to get a trim.
But what if Seokmin would prefer her hair at this length? Maybe even a little longer? Mingyu could get behind that, if that's what she was into. Mingyu would get behind anything if it meant that she could hear her laugh again.
Fuck.
"Fuck," Mingyu repeats out loud. "I'm a mess."
"Yes," Wonwoo nods, flicking through something on her phone. "Elaborate, though."
She recounts the brief interaction she had with Seokmin, butterflies threatening to tear a hole right through her stomach lining.
"Wow," Wonwoo says as she finishes. "You're kind of a loser."
Jeonghan reaches up and smacks her on the arm. "You have no room to talk."
"Yeah, you've been watching Chan's story from Minghao's phone so you can see her close friends for like, a week," Seungcheol adds, grinning.
Wonwoo stutters out a weak defense for herself as she lands ass-first in the hot seat, blush nearly as fierce as Mingyu's. There's a reason they get along so well, truly.
"Wait. Minghao's phone? Is Hao here?"
"Yeah, they're asleep in Wonwoo's room. Passed right out the second they got here."
Of course.
"Do none of you have apartments of your own?"
"We do," Seungkwan smiles. "But it's way more interesting to be here, of course. You always have a new love interest."
"You're making me sound like a player! Such a lesbian stereotype."
"Right," Seungcheol nods. "As opposed to what you actually are—"
"A loser," Wonwoo interjects, punctuated by another smack from Jeonghan.
"The other lesbian stereotype."
Mingyu lets out a long suffering groan, toppling over across Seungcheol and Wonwoo's laps, face down against their legs. "She was so pretty. And all I could say is that I like her nails."
"It's better than nothing," Jeonghan says, finally detaching from Seungkwan to sit by Mingyu. "Usually, you don't say anything at all and then just look like a kicked puppy for a couple of hours."
"Gold star for effort," Seungcheol pets her head in an attempt to console her. It's kind of working.
"I want a girlfriend, not gold stars!"
Seungkwan sits up on her knees to reach over and grab Mingyu's face, turning it to face her. "Why are you freaking out? This is a good thing! She's clearly into you, and now you have her number."
"She could've been teasing me because I was gawking at her on public transport. She told me to make an appointment!"
"Sexy," Wonwoo supplies.
Mingyu bites her thigh playfully. "Professional. She was trying to secure a client, and here I am, trying to commit her freaking scent to memory."
"At the very least, you're going to see her again. She's expecting a text from you, and that's all you need," Jeonghan says.
It honestly feels like Mingyu needs a miracle and a thousand prayers, because the thought of clicking on Seokmin's contact and trying to start a conversation is enough to have her heart rate speed up rapidly, pulsing throughout every limb in her body. It's like she's under a spell, and every time she crosses Mingyu's mind she grows a little sicker with an unidentified illness. Maybe Seokmin can feel it from wherever she is. Maybe she's giggling about it.
"Snap out of it," Seungkwan says, smacking her cheek.
"Ow! Violent!"
"Well if nobody else is going to smack some sense into you, I might as well be the one to do it! You're self sabotaging massively right now."
"I am not."
"You are," the other four chorus in unison. They can never seem to fully agree on anything unless its at Mingyu's expense.
The bedroom door on the far end of the hallway creaks open, revealing a sleep-ruffled Minghao, with slightly smudged eye makeup, clad in one of Mingyu's hoodies that she hasn't seen in ages. A product of their short-lived fling from two summers ago, back when they were the cool, novelty barista that guessed her birth chart in entirety without one mistake after only having spoken twice. Back then, Mingyu would die to be greeted by the image of the Xu Minghao, fresh off the train from dreamland and stumbling around in her clothes.
Wow. I should probably stop befriending my exes.
"Loud," they say in lieu of hello, waddling towards the group. "You guys are all so loud."
"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Seungcheol says like a mom, tugging on Minghao's sleeve as they pass by to snag a cheek kiss. Minghao frowns but doesn't squirm away, eyes half-open.
"Mmm," Minghao hums. "Hi, Mingyu."
"Hello, hoodie thief."
Minghao squints in that cute way that they always do, somewhere between confused and offended, forehead scrunching up. It makes Mingyu want to squeeze their head until it pops. "You gave me this."
"Yeah. When we were together. A year and a half ago."
Minghao cocks their head to the side, hair falling into their eyes. "Why does that matter?"
Part of the problem with being both a romantic and a lesbian is that you truly do believe that you meet everyone for a reason, and that almost anyone can be made into a friend. Hence why Mingyu's tongue has been in the mouths of half her closest friends, and why they all feel comfortable enough prancing around her apartment. Seungkwan's a repeat offender too, and Wonwoo mixes their laundry so frequently that they don't even get particular about whose clothes are whose.
"There's a new girl on the roster, Myungho," Seungkwan tuts. "She's trying to replace us."
"Well I would sure hope so, being hung up on your ex is such a stereotype," Minghao replies, dropping a kiss to Seungkwan's head before finally crossing into the kitchen to pull the fridge open. They opt for a glass of water, filling it up from the filter before settling in next to Seungkwan, making grabby hands for their phone. "Wonwoo, are you done stalking Chan yet?"
"I do not stalk her."
"You're so abnormal about her that it's kind of sad," Mingyu comments.
Minghao nods. "I am literally only here so that you can use my phone to absorb the entirety of her internet presence without being caught. And also because I was hungry after class, but you guys don't have any food."
Seungkwan pouts.
"And also Seungkwan is here."
The pout is replaced by dazzling pearly whites. The weird, unspoken thing between the two of them has been slowly building for over a month, dating back to when Seungkwan was so hungover that she managed to give herself a fever, holed up in Minghao's bed after one of their parties. Nobody's asked about it, but clearly something has shifted. Jihoon and Soonyoung quietly U-hauling without making anything official has been stealing the show, as of late.
Instead of gagging at the unresolved sexual tension, Mingyu creates an opening for her escape. "Sorry about the food, Hao, but when you have to feed an army without notice, that tends to happen. I can make something, though."
As she moves to stand, Jeonghan pulls her back down with an alarming amount of force for someone who hasn't carried a single thing in years, on account of her girlfriend who won't let her lift a finger. "Oh, no you don't. You're trying to get us to forget about train-girl. It's not going to work. Seungcheol will order us food."
Seungcheol nods, already reaching for her phone. "Focus on texting her."
"You would rather order for six people than just let me cook?"
"You can't be trusted," Seungkwan muses. "You're not exactly great at making the first move, Gyu."
That she can't deny. If Jihoon hadn't literally shoved her, she wouldn't have even got a chance to speak to Seokmin to begin with. Seungkwan and Minghao had both been the ones to pursue Mingyu, but the ball is completely in her court this go-round. She might just be sick with the weight of a decision like that. Seokmin is like, next-level. Inhumanly beautiful. Shouldn't something like this be left up to fate?
"No self sabotage," Jeonghan says, pinching her cheeks. "Promise us."
Mingyu rolls her eyes as she pulls out her phone to draft a text. "I promise."
"Say 'I, Kim Mingyu, will text the hot girl from the train, and not self-sabotage,'" Wonwoo smirks.
"I, Kim Mingyu, will text the hot girl from the train, and not self-sabotage."
That statement proves itself as satisfactory as they all cheer, Seungcheol passing the phone over so she can get Mingyu's order for dinner.
It's just a text, she thinks to herself. How hard could it be to just send a text?
❤︎
Hard. Sending a text is really, really hard.
Not only does Mingyu manage to go the entirety of the hangout without sending one, days have gone by. The workload from her architecture major has kept her up at night in equal amount to the untouched contact in her phone that's begging for her attention.
Four days. Four whole days since The Great Subway Fumble. God, fate has its way of getting in the way when it wants to, truly.
Sure, she's partly to blame because she couldn't just suck it up and attempt to be forward, but the conditions are suboptimal as is. She's fucking swamped, time split 70-30 between her bed and the studio on campus, reworking plans and spending an absurd amount of time trying not to march over to the academic advising suite and just change her major. It's been a rough week.
Even if she were to text Seokmin, it would really just be a waste of her time. Mingyu's got barely any free time right now, let alone for a nail appointment that's really just a ruse. It would be unethical and unfair to put her in that position. Objectively.
So she lets the days pass her by, sulking miserably every time she thinks about it. Which is far too often.
Seungkwan bursts into her room as she turns it over in her mind for the thousandth time, startling her right out of her chair.
"We're getting boba. Put shoes on."
"It's nice to see you too," Mingyu says, rubbing her back as she sits up. "I'm busy."
Seungkwan squints. "With what?"
They're both staring at the empty desk space, all of Mingyu's materials put away neatly as she experiences her first few hours of freedom since she tackled her last design project. What she'd actually been preoccupied was thinking longingly about Seokmin, but that should still count!
"I was about to um…start modeling this thing—"
Seungkwan raises a hand, silencing her before she can even really get started. "You are a god awful liar. We're getting boba, put your shoes on."
She doesn't really feel like going anywhere, content with spending her time daydreaming about a girl she can't bring herself to text until she's inevitably overwhelmed with work again.
"Seungkwan," she whines.
"Mingyu," she says right back. "Shoes. Now. You can't spend all your time at school or in this apartment."
Unfortunately, she has a point. Mingyu flourishes when she's surrounded by other people, or at the very least leaves her room, recharging her and resetting the fried wiring in her brain whenever she gets caught in these cycles. Plus, it's been a bit since they hung out together, just the two of them, and she misses Seungkwan a bit.
"Okay, fine," Mingyu stands, running her hands through her hair. Then she freezes. "Wait, Wonwoo isn't here. How did you get in?"
"Jun let me in."
Mingyu sighs as she pulls her bedroom door open, revealing an entirely too comfortable freeloader on her couch. Junhui turns her head in the direction of the noise, grinning wide as she registers who it is.
"Oh, hi Mingyu!"
"Hi, Jun. Why are you here?"
"Soonyoung wanted to watch this new drama together, but I don't have Netflix."
"And neither do I," Soonyoung chimes, head popping up from the floor. "But I know you guys do. Hi."
"Hi," Mingyu says again. "How did you get in?"
'"Jeonghan was leaving as we got here, so she got the door for us."
Mingyu blinks. She had no idea that Jeonghan had been here at all—and in all honesty, that probably means that Seungcheol is, or was, here at some point too. "Is there anyone else here that I should know about?"
"Jihoon is in the bathroom."
Mingyu hangs her head in defeat. There's no use in fighting it. This is just what her life is like now. Getting some fresh air is probably a good idea. "Right. Of course. Seungkwan, let's go."
Seungkwan just grins, drumming happily on her shoulders as she pushes her in the direction of the door.
"Where are you guys going?"
"Nunya," Seungkwan says at the same time that Mingyu says "Boba."
"Nunya Boba," Soonyoung repeats. "Is that a new place that's opened up?"
The blonde simply stares at her for a few moments, before ignoring her entirely, turning to Jun. "Don't watch past episode eight. I want to watch with you guys when we come back."
"I like how there's zero regard for whether or not Wonwoo and I will want you out of here by then."
"Oh, so you hate us and want us to die," Soonyoung accuses. "Is that it?"
"That's genuinely a whole new sentence," Mingyu deadpans, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Have fun getting boba without us, since you hate us and want us to die," Jun says, grinning as she presses play.
"Ugh," Seungkwan scoffs. "Text me your orders."
"Seungkwan. If I wasn't madly in love with Jihoon, I would kiss you."
"Seungkwan. I have kissed you and would again, but I don't want to get up. I love you."
She waves them off as she pulls the door open and shoves Mingyu out of it. "Soonyoung: I'd rather kill myself. Jun: I appreciate the sentiment. We'll see you guys later, okay?"
Mingyu waves goodbye as the shorter of the two slams the door shut, motioning for her key. Mingyu just hands it over, knowing she'll get it back later. Probably.
She allows Seungkwan to ramble about her day and the coworker that's pissing her off throughout the walk to the car and the duration of the drive, the tension in her gut unraveling as she navigates to their favorite cafe. There's an easiness to it, and Seungkwan fills empty space and silence like it's no big deal. Normally Mingyu would yap back, but for now she's content listening, only chiming in as needed.
The cafe is running a 2-for-1 holiday special for their drinks, decorated festively for the winter with paper snow flakes plastered against the glass windows, wreaths and bows adorning the walls. The faint smells of vanilla, cinnamon and sugar waft through the air the second they open the door, and Seungkwan immediately gleams. They shuffle forward in line as she bounces on the heels of her feet, riling Mingyu up too as they stare at the pastry display case.
The vibe makes all the anxieties about Seokmin and their encounter bleed out of her pores, too preoccupied with the dozens of sugary treat options to give it much though at the moment, quickly realizing she's hungrier than she had realized.
Seungkwan rises again like she's trying to get a better look at the counter, and Mingyu squints at all her fidgeting as the puzzle pieces click into place.
"…Are we only here because you wanted to visit Minghao during their shift?"
Seungkwan bounces like a rabbit before realizing she must look ridiculous, turning back to her. "What? No."
A pause. Folding under little to no pressure, like she always does.
"Okay, yes. But I really also want a chocolate filled croissant and milk tea."
"Why didn't you just text them to see if they were working?"
"That makes me look eager. And desperate."
Mingyu deadpans. "And becoming the Energizer Bunny in front of a bunch of strangers doesn't have that same effect?"
"Not if they aren't here to see it."
Mingyu pinches her cheek teasingly. "You were never this enthusiastic to come see me when I worked at the gym."
"Because the gym doesn't sell cake pops or smell like happiness. Sweat and toxic masculinity was the standard scent profile, Gyu."
"Whatever," Mingyu giggles, still squishing Seungkwan's face in her hands. "Why don't you guys just, like, ask each other out?"
Seungkwan pouts but doesn't bat her hands away. "I don't even know if it's serious or not. There's just this, like, unaddressed tension and I'm scared to find out what it means. Besides, I don't really think I'm Minghao's…type."
Mingyu cocks her head to the side. "Minghao doesn't have a type."
"Sure they do, when it comes to dating and not just casual hookups. They like members of the Hot Topic rewards program and rave organizers. I'm wearing platform Uggs and fleece leggings with leg warmers. I don't even know what EDM stands for."
"Electronic Dance Music."
"See? Not their type!"
The family ahead of them in line finally finishes up their order, making way for Mingyu and Seungkwan to place their own. They rattle off their own drinks and pastries before reading off what the trio at the house had requested, along with Wonwoo's go-to boba just in case she's back by the time they get there.
As they're stepping out of line, Seungkwan fiddles with her braided strands, trying to minimize flyaways. "Besides, what would you even know? You've never asked anyone out a day in your life. We literally had to force you to text train-girl."
Mingyu winces involuntarily at the mention, remembering the nonexistent text thread.
Seungkwan's brows turn up in confusion as they take their seats, waiting for their orders. "What? Why did you react like that? Is it not going well?"
She chews on her lip as she tries to come up with a reasonable lie. "Well, it's not exactly going…great."
"Oh no, what happened? Let me see. Maybe it can be salvaged."
Seungkwan reaches over to grab Mingyu's phone, which she immediately snatches up and hugs to her chest.
Nice going, Mingyu. Very subtle.
As if this weren't suspicious enough as is, it's extremely out of character to hide something on her phone from Seungkwan. Even after breaking up they continued to be the kinds of friends that have each others' passwords and screen share while on FaceTime. Mingyu has literally helped her create the perfect Instagram story thirst trap on several occasions. She's seen her hidden photos album in her camera roll numerous times, before and after they'd seen each other naked. Looking at each other's texts is like, baseline levels of trust between the two of them.
Seungkwan clocks this immediately. "What the hell? Why don't you want me to see?"
"It's embarrassing," is the first excuse that comes to mind. It's not technically a lie—the fact that she can't even send a 'hey, this is mingyu!! from the train :)' is pathetic. Embarrassing might be an understatement.
When did she lose her edge? Not that Mingyu has ever 'had game,' but she's sure this is worse than it's ever been before. This is simply one of those inexplicable, impossible to identify occurrences. Literally silenced by her attraction towards this girl.
Part of her wants to argue further that it's a matter of fate, dangling what she's too nervous to reach up and grab for herself as if it's some kind of edenic fruit. Besides, a metro-meet cute isn't even that romantic.
(She's lying. It's so perfect that it actually makes her heart race every time she revisits the image in her mind. She's obsessed with it and has imagined telling the story at dinner parties and family gatherings for generations to come. She wants Seokmin a stupid fucking amount.)
"You're always embarrassing, that's why I'm trying to help," Seungkwan says. "Show me."
"No."
Seungkwan grows fed up rather quickly, leaning forward to try to pry it out of her grasp, only for Mingyu to switch hands and extend her arm upwards at full length, like a child playing a game of keep-away.
"Are you five fucking years old? Show me how badly you messed it up so I can help you!"
"What makes you so sure that I did something wrong? What if it was her?"
"Because there literally isn't anyone more embarrassing than you. Give. Me. Your. Phone."
"No!"
Before Seungkwan gets the chance to lunge across the table, a presence passes over them like a celestial specter, a familiarly intoxicating scent and long hair flowing out of the corner of Mingyu's eye.
Is that—
"Seokmin! Over here!"
Mingyu immediately whips her head in the direction of the sound, and unrecognizable voice calling out towards Seokmin, one hundred percent the same girl she met the other day.
Her phone goes slack in her grip as she tries to confirm that this is real life, giving Seungkwan the perfect opportunity to snag it and start typing in the password.
"Ha! I win—wait, what are you looking at?"
The ground needs to open up and swallow her immediately. There's no way that she's here on today of all days, what are the odds? Mingyu has never seen her here once before, and she's sure of it. She definitely would've noticed, her presence is overwhelmingly alluring. She's half sure she would be drooling right now if her lips weren't pressed so tightly together.
Seungkwan follows her line of sight, gasping. "Oh my god, she's gorgeous."
"I know," Mingyu says breathlessly, taking in Seokmin's off the shoulder fleece sweater and glittering jewelry. She looks straight out of a department store catalogue, eyes bright as she begins to laugh at something that Mingyu's ears don't pick up. "Just as pretty as she was on the train."
A gasp pulls her attention back to their own table, Seungkwan gaping. "That's train-girl?"
Mingyu nods, swallowing as she tries to ignore the way her face is heating up. Can their drinks get made any faster?
"Oh my god," Seungkwan repeats. Then again, for good measure. "Oh my god! No wonder you've been a wreck."
She places her face in her hands. "Hide me."
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you're like, two heads taller than me and built like a tank. I couldn't hide you even if I wanted to."
Mingyu chances a glance over at the table, just to make sure that Seokmin can't see her, only to find her already looking back in mild shock, a bite of cookie caught between her teeth. She freezes and gives Mingyu a once-over, trying to confirm whether or not they know each other.
The reddening of her cheeks must give it away, because Seokmin pops the rest of the cookie into her mouth and dusts her hands, grinning at how flustered Mingyu is with zero effort exerted. She averts her gaze immediately, experiencing an overwhelming sense of deja vu.
"Fuck. She's looking over here."
"Really? Do you think she recognizes you?"
"Definitely," she replies, blush spreading wildly. "Pretend you don't see her."
Seungkwan, of course, chooses to turn halfway around in her seat to get a better look at her, the exact opposite of what Mingyu is asking her to do. It doesn't matter what she says—her and Soonyoung are so alike sometimes. Nobody in this friend group has any semblance of tact, and it will be the very thing that kills Mingyu.
"Okay, well, she's still looking."
"Probably because she's weirded out by the fact that you're still looking back! Seungkwan, stop!"
Seungkwan faces her again. "Okay, I absolutely have to know what you said. If it was bad enough that you can't even acknowledge her presence, then—"
"I didn't say anything!"
"Huh?"
Mingyu blows out a breath, pride torn severely. "I never texted her. We haven't spoken since I last saw her in person."
For a moment, her friend just stares at her, similarly to how she did with Soonyoung earlier, expression not leaning towards any particular emotion. Then, out of nowhere, it seems to all kick in at once as she smacks Mingyu in the arm.
"Ow! Violent!"
"Liar," Seungkwan exclaims, flailing her hands around, still gripping Mingyu's phone. "You said you texted her!"
"Well, yeah!"
"You said no more self-sabotage!"
"Well clearly, it's just like you said—I can't be trusted! Lower your voice!"
She takes a deep breath in through her nose as she sets Mingyu's phone down, only to hear the name on their ordered called by one of the employees. "Go get our drinks, you little faker."
"Why do I have to do it?"
"You've had me emotionally invested in a side quest that wasn't even real! It's the least you could do. I'm wounded."
"Drama queen," Mingyu mutters, standing up out of her seat to retrieve their drink tray and treat bags.
She greets the barista at the pick-up window, a teenager that she recognizes as Seol Yuna, familiar because of the unhealthy frequency at which they visit this place. They strike up a brief conversation about how her college applications are coming, and how annoying it is that they keep running out of peppermint syrup prematurely.
By the time Mingyu is making her way over with their drink tray after imparting a heavy dose of big sisterly advice on a girl she barely knows, Seungkwan has vacated their table, coat and phone abandoned.
Mingyu sets the food down on the table, searching the cafe until her eyes once again land on Seokmin's table—except this time, Seungkwan is standing in front of it, making conversation.
Fuck!
She speeds over in record time, not even thinking about how she's tossing herself into open flames, presenting ample opportunity to humiliate herself in front of the very girl she's refused to reach out to.
"Uh, hey," she starts nervously, eyes flicking back and forth between the three women sitting in front of her.
"Hi," Seokmin says, biting into another chunk of the cookie, staring up at her with the same unending fascination from before, like she's amused that Mingyu is here before her. It makes Mingyu want to shed all her layers like a snake.
"Oh, Mingyu, there you are! We were just talking about you," Seungkwan grins wickedly, like Mingyu is playing right into whatever twisted torture she's concocted in two and a half minutes. It's kind of impressive how quickly she can turn petty. Jeonghan prides herself on being her mentor, and it's evident that it was no exaggeration.
"All good things, I hope," she laughs nervously.
Seokmin catches her straw between her teeth before releasing it, smiling. "Why? Are there any bad things to note?"
Mingyu swallows thickly. "Um."
"I'm kidding, Mingyu," Seokmin chuckles, eyes flicking over hoodie. "Is your name on all your clothes?"
She glances at the embroidery in the fabric and mentally kicks herself. Holy fuck, this is a humiliation ritual. "Helps me remember, in case I forget it," she jokes, trying to mask how awkward she feels being sized up in front of two other people who can one hundred percent tell how hard she's blushing about it.
It gets a laugh out of Seokmin regardless though, so she'll take any small wins where she can take them.
"Seungkwan was just telling us about how you two were meaning to get your nails done. I mentioned that I'm a nail tech."
"She owns the studio on Fifth," the friend chimes in, smile far kinder and less pointed than Seokmin's. "I'm Haseul, it's nice to meet you both."
"You too," Mingyu swallows, still staring at Seokmin, who is looking her up and down in a way that makes her feel completely raw. She should probably feel a little guiltier that she'd ignored her presence up until now, but she can't bring herself to look anywhere other than Seokmin.
Seungkwan, ever perceptive, is quietly cataloguing every detail of this interaction. "Anyway, I think it's so cool that you run your own business. I've been looking for a new nail tech since my last one moved away a while ago."
"Well you're in luck, because I'm not going anywhere any time soon," Seokmin smiles. Her gaze slides over to Mingyu, still hungry and relentlessly warm. Her face is baking under the eye contact. Then she moves back to Seungkwan, all sweet and friendly, like nothing had happened at all—whiplash.
"I love your nails, by the way. I'm assuming you did them yourself?"
"Aw thanks, I've been getting that a lot recently," she replies. Mingyu wants to explode. "And yes, I did. Maybe when I have some free time I'll just refresh the same design. But obviously I wanna focus on my actual clients first."
"Well now I know where my next paycheck is going," Seungkwan giggles.
"I'll try not to bleed you both dry, Seungkwan-ah."
"We also do couple's discounts," Haseul chirps. "In case you're interested in that."
There's something about the way she delivers it, like she's trying to test the waters, pry information out of them under the guise of helpfulness. It's no wonder her and Seokmin are friends, then. This pair is kind of deadly, and she still falls for it, hook, line, and sinker.
Panic kickstarts in Mingyu's gut, eyes widening in fear. "Oh, we're not—"
She stalls as Seokmin wordlessly takes in both their body language, the speed at which Mingyu moved to deny. Eager. Desperate. Suddenly, she completely understands what Seungkwan was talking about earlier. Seokmin raises a brow, imploring her to continue, but her mouth is sewn shut.
"We're just friends," Seungkwan takes over. "In case you were wondering."
Mingyu has half a mind to kill everyone in this cafe and then herself. It feels like she may die of heat stroke, and it's below freezing point outside.
Seokmin just laughs again, like she's witnessing the comedy special of the year, with Mingyu headlining. Maybe she's the kind of person who takes pleasure in others' pain. A conversational sadist.
Weirdly, that only makes Mingyu more attracted to her the more it happens.
"Well the offer still stands, even if you're just a couple of friends. We actually have a pretty busy schedule for the next few weeks, but I can definitely squeeze you guys in. Especially if Minghao pops over."
Seungkwan blinks. "You know Minghao?"
"Oh, yeah, for sure. Hao and I have been friends for years. They help out when we get overbooked every now and then."
The thing about Minghao is that much like Jihoon, they often move in silence. It wasn't until six months into their friendship that they all found out they're a member of a band. Mingyu's pretty sure she only found out they were double majoring because they fell asleep with a digital art project open on one monitor, and a 200 slide astronomy lecture open on another. Minghao hasn't mentioned Seokmin or a nail salon at any point in their friendship.
Honestly, Mingyu has half a mind to get angry at Minghao for a second. She can deal with stolen hoodies, sure—but why wouldn’t they introduce her to Seokmin? She could’ve met her so much sooner! Preferably not drenched in sweat on her way back from the gym, even if the subway meet-cute does make for a nice story.
But then again, it probably wouldn’t have mattered. She wouldn’t have been able to talk to her, even if they had met earlier. Because Mingyu is, unfortunately, allergic to attractive women and the concept of speaking first.
Seungkwan is still short circuiting about the fact that Minghao has yet another secret pastime that she knew nothing about, filing this piece of information away for further use. Mingyu's pretty sure she's into it though—Seungkwan has always preferred mysterious types. Mingyu is the one who likes open books.
Haseul is the one to giggle this time. "I'm guessing they haven't mentioned it?"
"Not once," Mingyu confirms.
"Classic Xu Minghao. They're kind of like a non binary, Chinese Barbie. They've done, like, every career."
"And all with flawless eye makeup and zero sleep. The people's prince. Wait, what's the gender neutral alternative?"
"Uh..monarch?"
"The people's monarch," Seokmin repeats. "How fitting."
Seungkwan's phone buzzes, cutting through the chatter. It's a flurry of texts from Soonyoung that read as such:
From: soonyoung
holy fuck where are u guys
are u dead
did u die
ur location says ur at the cafe still
i thought u guys were going to nunya boba
okay i just looked it up and that doesnt even exist. wtf
why would u lie to me
ok whatever
…
girl if u fucking died because u wanted to go be gay for minghap
im gonna be so mad
minghap
minghap
FUCK
MINGHAO*
ARE YOU DEAD
BOO SEUNGKWAN YOU CANNOT DIE IN THAT BOBA SHOP
THATS SUCH A STEREOTYPE THEYD MAKE FUN OF YOU ON THE INTERNET
CAUSE ITS JUST SUCH A GAY ASS PLACE TO DIE
BRUH
HOW ARE YOU GONNA BE THE GODMOTHER OF ME AND JIHOONS CHILD IF YOU FUCKING DIE
SHOULD I CALL THE POLICE?
omg wait mingyu is there with u too
UR BOTH DEAD?
FUCKKKK DUDE
WHOS GONNA COOK. AND OPEN TIGHT JAR LIDS
MY FUCKING BOBA
From: seungkwan
you are genuinely so annoying
we'll be back soon! Do Not call the police
wait you want me to be the godmother of your hypothetical baby with your long term situationship?
wait i actually am really moved by that
i love you
From: soonyoung
okay well clearly not enough to bring back boba in a timely manner
i love u too
also dont call her my situationship
jihoon is my wife
From: seungkwan
… you guys arent even dating yet
From: soonyoung
i mean we are
she just wont admit it
which is fine
i like when she pretends she doesnt like me
shes literally laying on top of me as i type this
okay now shes reading
SHES HITTING ME SHES HITTING ME HELP
GET BACK QUIVK
IM GONNA DIE
HELPPPP
Mingyu and Seungkwan look up from their text thread. "I think we have to get going now."
"Ah, that's alright, we should probably be heading out too," Haseul smiles.
"It was great to meet you both! We'll definitely be stopping by."
Seokmin claps her hands together in excitement. God, she is so fucking cute. "Let me get your numbers."
This time, Seokmin pulls out her own phone and gives it to Seungkwan, who then passes it to Mingyu. Now it's a two-way street.
As she hands the phone back, their hands brush again, something electric in the brief touch of their fingertips. Like it can't be helped. So long as Seokmin is touching Mingyu, there will be an unavoidable spark.
"I'll text you both about availability, okay?"
Seungkwan nods. The four exchange pleasantries as they move toward the exit, and Mingyu and Seungkwan retrieve their order from their original table. By the time they're out of earshot, Mingyu finally allows herself to freak out.
"Seungkwan! What the fuck was that?"
"Wow, that doesn't sound like thank you for not being a coward and saving my ass, Seungkwan. I really appreciate your help, Seungkwan."
Mingyu pulls her door open before rounding the front of the car to slip into the driver's seat. "It was humiliating. Do you see me right now? I'm humiliated. Capital H."
"Character building. A necessary evil. You can't just leave everything up to chance! You like her, and judging by how she was trying to undress you from where she was sitting, I'd argue that the feeling is mutual!"
"More like she was taking joy in my suffering. She was staring at me the entire time."
"Because she was eye-fucking you, Mingyu. And you were doing it right back. I was honestly scared for both Haseul-unnie and myself."
Something in her wants to argue back, wants to fight what she can very clearly see in front of her, just for the sake of being right. The truth is, she's scared. And the fear only amplifies itself whenever she interacts with Seokmin directly. Thinking about her is bad enough, but talking to her is a beast of its own kind.
She's scary beautiful, and funny, and so damn flirtatious that it feels like Mingyu has a brain eating virus any time she tries to formulate a reply.
This was supposed to be a once in a lifetime crush. Not an ongoing form of torture via lesbianism.
"I don't want to talk about this right now."
Seungkwan lets out a sigh. "Okay, we won't talk about it anymore. For now."
"Thank you."
The drive back to the apartment is quiet as she tries to piece her thoughts together, and she stays stuck in her head until Seungkwan is unlocking the door and dropping her keys into the dish sitting right by the entrance.
"We're back," they call in unison.
They're greeted by a chorus of cheers that confirms that no one has left, and probably don't plan on leaving any time soon.
As predicted, Wonwoo made her way back in time to join the group, legs strewn across Jun's lap on the couch as Minghao curls into her side. On the floor, Jihoon scrolls on her phone as Soonyoung props her up.
"Hi everyone. We've got boba."
"We didn't know you were here, Hao. Sorry. We would've gotten you something too," Seungkwan blushes apologetically.
Minghao waves her off. "I've drank so much in the last week. I need a detox."
Mingyu gets to work handing everyone their own drinks and Seungkwan her baked good, settling down on the floor next to the lovebirds as Seungkwan squishes next to Minghao, who simply holds their arms open expectantly until she drops into them.
Too cute. Hopefully they get their shit together soon.
"Where are you guys in the drama?"
"About to start episode eight, so exactly where you wanted," Jun answers, pulling Wonwoo's glasses off her face to try on for herself. "Holy fuck, girl. You can't see for shit."
"Yeah, that's kind of what the glasses are for. Give them back."
"Soonyoung. You have to try these. Wonwoo can't see for shit."
Soonyoung reaches up and puts them on her own face, then immediately shrieks like she's been blinded permanently. "FUCK! Wonwoo, you can't see for shit."
"Yeah. We established that. That's why I have them."
"I mean, I always knew it was bad, but not this bad. Myungho-yah, try these."
Minghao grabs the glasses and winces the second they fit them onto the bridge of their nose. "Oh wow. Wonu-unnie, this is terrible. You can't see for shit."
Wonwoo just sighs, squinting at nothing angrily.
Minghao turns to Seungkwan and smiles, sitting up a little on their elbows, running a hand through their hair. "How do I look?"
"Good," Seungkwan giggles, pretending to think it over. "But it's missing something."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Mhm," she says, tilting the frames so they sit slightly askew on their face. "There. Much better."
Minghao just grins back, like Seungkwan is the funniest person in the world. They're maddeningly caught up in each other.
"Can I have my glasses back now, or are you still using them as a plot in this K-drama ass interaction?"
"Testy. Someone gets mad when she doesn't have her glasses on," Mingyu teases.
"Because I can't see for shit. Give me my glasses!"
Minghao plucks them off their face and hands them back, ending the mini-tantrum.
Wonwoo nods appreciatively, pushing them up the bridge of their nose like the nerd archetype in a shitty movie. Utilizing her middle finger to do so, of course.
The group settles in as Junhui presses play on the remote, all locking in to the medical drama onscreen. Mingyu hasn't even seen the show, so she's really only half-watching when her phone buzzes.
From: seokmin
hey stranger
well, not strangers
are we still strangers if we've met twice?
Mingyu nearly jumps out of her own skin, looking around to see if any of the vultures around her will sweep in for the kill by pointing it out. When she deems that it safe, everyone too engrossed in the show (or each other to care), she finally responds.
From: mingyu
I think we're more than strangers now
Hi
Sorry I didn't text before
I got super busy with school, and I didn't want to text you when I had no idea when I'd actually be able to come in for an appointment
The exact lie she'd rehearsed to herself for the past four days. It looks even more pathetic written out on her screen.
From: seokmin
excuses, excuses
i'm very sad mingyu-yah
i thought we had chemistry
What.
From: mingyu
Oh
You did?
From: seokmin
well, yeah
it's important for an artist to have a good bond with her clients, right?
Somehow, Mingyu is managing to embarrass herself even harder over text, which she didn't know was possible. Jesus.
From: mingyu
Oh
Right, yeah that makes sense
That's my bad
From: seokmin
i forgive you
on the singular condition that you won't ghost me again
From: mingyu
Yes ma'am
It won't happen again
I think I learned my lesson
From: seokmin
obedient
how fun
you don't have to sound so scared of me
From: mingyu
Not to alarm you, or anything
But I kind of am
From: seokmin
LOL
how come?
From: mingyu
You just make me really nervous, is all
From: seokmin
and why is that, mingyu
you can tell me
i won't be offended
From: mingyu
You just have this energy
I can't tell if I should run or get closer, I guess
Haha, sorry
That probably sounds so stupid
Pretty girls make me nervous.
Before Mingyu can even register what her dumbass brain and even dumber thumbs just fired off into the world, another text comes in.
From: seokmin
so you think i'm pretty?
She's cooked. Truly and totally cooked. She should change her name and move to Antarctica. Cut contact with civilization as she knows it. She'd need a whole new wardrobe too, since apparently all her fucking winter clothes have her name on them. What do people wear when they go into witness protection? Better yet, is exile-chic a thing?
Right as she tries to produce a reply to that, Seungkwan leans over the edge of the couch to squint down at her phone. "Oh my god, are you texting Seokmin right now?"
"Seokmin?" Minghao looks over at the two of them, confused. "You know her?"
"Seokmin is train-girl," Seungkwan clarifies, letting out a little squeal.
Junhui pauses the show again, turning her attention towards them "You're texting train-girl right now? About what?"
"Oh, you actually did it? I thought you chickened out."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Wonu," Mingyu deadpans.
"Well, it's an accurate assessment. She didn't actually text her until today."
"Oh my god," Jihoon groans. "Are you kidding? This whole time you've been staring at your phone and you hadn't even sent her anything?"
Mingyu shakes her head.
"You complain all the time about wanting a girlfriend, but when a girl flirts with you, you get scared," Soonyoung sighs. "You're like, the worst kind of gay."
"This is why I never tell you guys anything by the way," Mingyu groans, looking back down at the text thread. "Everyone leave me alone while I figure out how to reply."
Just as she's about to start typing, another text comes in.
From: seokmin
too forward?
my bad haha
i just thought i got a vibe
From: mingyu
Very forward
But no different than how you are in person
I like it.
I've done a shitty job at expressing it, clearly
I only took so long to reply because all my friends are hanging around me, excited to watch me embarrass myself
She bites her nail as she watches the text bubble generate, awaiting the reply that will determine if she needs to invest in new clothes and a fake passport.
From: seokmin
you aren't embarrassing yourself
for what it's worth
it's kind of cute
really cute, actually
are you always that tongue tied?
The confirmation that Mingyu hasn't completely obliterated her hypothetical chances by being a loser lesbian settles her nerves greatly. There's still that undeniable fear that she can't fully shake, but she can at least attempt at flirting back.
From: mingyu
No
Never this bad, at least
I think it's just a you thing
From: seokmin
so i'm special?
From: mingyu
Kinda sounds like you're just fishing for compliments now
From: seokmin
answer the question :)
From: mingyu
Haha
Yes, I think you're very special
And super talented. I really am impressed by your nails. I wasn't just saying that
From: seokmin
thank you, i really appreciate it
it kinda seemed like you were just agreeing to get your nails done because i asked
From: mingyu
…
What?
I would never
From: seokmin
LMFAO
have you ever had your nails done before?
From: mingyu
Not professionally
Seungkwan and Minghao have painted them before, though
I'm excited though
Like I said, I trust your vision
From: seokmin
i've got you baby
trust me, i'm great at my job
you won't regret it
when are you free?
Every single text in that sequence made Mingyu's face get redder. Her cheeks are hot enough to fry an egg on—she can hear every word in Seokmin's voice, including the pet name, and it's enough to send her six feet under prematurely. Cause of death: mild gay flirting,
"We're both free on Wednesday at three thirty."
Mingyu startles, looking up at Seungkwan. "What the fuck? You scared me!"
Minghao kicks her in the shoulder. "Loud."
"Ow! Violent! God, you two are rubbing off on each other."
"But not in the ways that matter," Soonyoung says. Jihoon smacks her upside the head, trying to hide the fact that she also found it funny.
Seungkwan sends a death glare Soonyoung's way before turning back to Mingyu, pointedly ignoring her own pink cheeks, and the fact that Minghao is flustered too. "Anyway. I think that's the best time to get them done. I checked the Google calendar and it looks like you're free too."
With a friend group as large and codependent as theirs, it's impossible to have schedules that always overlap cleanly. So to maximize their inability to leave each other the fuck alone, Seungcheol had organized a Google calendar with their class and work schedules, obligations, appointments, etcetera. The most recent addition was Jisoo, who has been on the outskirts of their friend group for the longest time due to an unsavory relationship and an impossible to manage schedule. Last spring she'd finally been pulled into the madness, thought Mingyu and Wonwoo have probably seen her the least out of anyone, ironically enough.
They're still working on acquiring Chan—she's more of Seungkwan and Minghao's friend than anyone else's, with the first two sharing a class, and the latter being an ex-employee at the bar where Chan works. Wonwoo is absolutely enamored with the bartender, but it's proven to be a somewhat fruitless endeavor thus far. But as of now, the calendar system works, especially for the type A members of the group (see: Boo Seungkwan).
"Yeah, that should work. I can pick you up from your lab? I'll just be a little late, since you finish before me."
Seungkwan nods.
"I think I'll be working at the salon on Wednesday, actually," Minghao clears their throat. "I'm headed straight from class, so I could probably grab you if that'd be easier."
Mingyu kind of wants to tease them for hijacking their plans, but it actually makes way more sense for those two to arrive together, seeing as she'll be finishing up a group project for her design studio course. She shudders at the thought.
Seungkwan grins. "That works for me. Gyu?"
She asks in a way that they both know isn't a question. "Sounds good."
From: mingyu
Seungkwan and I are both free at 3:30 on Wednesday, if that works okay?
From: seokmin
sounds great :)
From: mingyu
Awesome :)
"Okay, Seokmin said that's good."
"Perfect," Seungkwan smiles, turning back to the screen. Then her face immediately falls. "What the fuck? SHE DIED?"
Sure enough, the main character's sister (who Mingyu won't even pretend to know the name of) is bloodied, eyes shut on a surgery table as the team of doctors grapples with their failure.
"Like two minutes ago, yeah," Wonwoo confirms.
"Maybe if you weren't so busy being gay, you would've noticed," Soonyoung says.
"You have no idea what's going on, do you?"
"Not a clue, Jihoon fell asleep twenty minutes ago and I've just been listening to her breathe."
"You do realize you're not Robert Pattinson enough to pull off being this creepy, right?"
"Is anyone paying attention besides me and Jun?"
"I'm not going to lie, Wonu-yah. I took an edible before this. I'm seeing sound. I literally have no idea what's happening right now."
"Where the fuck did you get an edible?!"
"I made it."
"When?!"
"Right before you guys got here. I don't know."
"Are you kidding me? You guys are the ones who wanted to watch this! And I'm the only one who cares."
The room goes silent at her outburst, the protagonist sobbing her eyes out.
"Okay I'm over it. Do you have more edibles?"
Junhui nods, getting up with an unnecessary amount of force, standing on shaky legs. She looks like a baby deer. "Does anyone else want some?"
Every single hand in the room shoots up.
"Freeloaders," she mutters.
"This is our apartment," Mingyu and Wonwoo reply in unison, as they have many times before. And just like every time before, it falls on deaf ears, nobody acknowledging the statement at all.
Fate may have its way of stressing Mingyu out to no end, but it also makes way for moments like these, that make the anxiety worth it. Love and fate, baby. Pure magic.