syn: When a waiter asks Daniela if she’s single, she hesitates for a second before answering. Everyone moves on. You don’t.
tags: daniela x reader, ot7 reader, established relationship, hurt comfort, angst with happy ending, miscommunication, overthinking, soft daniela, comfort fic
taglist: @ctrlamira @yournextdooralien @yunjinsfinancialadvisor @belzanita @katsattorney @chaeryenchanted @swiftieortega13 @pnsteblnme @mochi-nugs @plqnetputellas @katscopic @micaluvssoccer @aoeiurgnmddk @xiiaann @x-d4cvalentine-x @needmeganskiendiel @randomperson868 @urwavvy @sani-sunny
a/n: tysm for the request!! much love xx
The restaurant is loud in the way only small local places can be.
Music hums from overhead speakers, plates clatter somewhere behind the counter, and conversations blend together into a constant buzz. It’s nothing fancy—just somewhere close to the practice studio where all seven of you can finally sit down and eat after a long day.
You barely make it through the door before everyone starts claiming seats.
“Booth!” Lara announces dramatically, already heading toward the biggest one she can find.
The rest of the girls follow behind her, laughing.
You slide into one side of the booth, grateful to finally be off your feet.
Before you can even settle properly, Daniela drops into the seat beside you.
Like there’s nowhere else she would’ve sat.
You smile to yourself as she immediately leans into your side.
“You’re taking up my space.”
Then she proceeds to rest half her weight against you.
Across the table, Megan snorts into her drink.
“You literally sat next to her.”
“And now you’re acting like she’s invading your personal bubble.”
“Please. I just sat down.”
The table erupts into laughter.
You can feel Daniela smiling against your shoulder.
The kind of thing that stopped feeling new a long time ago.
Menus are passed around. Drinks are ordered.
Everyone talks over one another, bouncing between stories from practice and random topics that make absolutely no sense outside your group.
At some point, your food arrives.
At some point, Daniela decides your fries look better than hers.
You catch her hand reaching across your plate.
“You haven’t even taken one yet.”
You try to pull the basket away.
Megan nearly chokes laughing.
Even Yoonchae is smiling.
Daniela stealing your food.
Your knee pressed against hers beneath the table.
The absent-minded way she reaches for your hand while listening to Sophia talk.
It’s all become so routine that nobody pays attention anymore.
You just sit there, surrounded by your members, listening to the chaos around the table while Daniela leans against your side like she belongs there.
The conversation flows easily around the table.
Lara is in the middle of telling some ridiculous story from practice, complete with dramatic hand gestures and exaggerated impressions. Manon keeps interrupting to correct details, which only makes everyone laugh harder.
You barely get a word in.
Watching the chaos is entertaining enough.
The waiter returns a few minutes later to check on the table.
He’s around your age, maybe a little older.
The kind of person who talks to customers like he’s known them for years.
“Everything good?” he asks.
A chorus of nods answers him.
He starts collecting empty baskets and used napkins from the edge of the table.
Then he glances toward Daniela.
For a second, you think he’s about to ask if she needs a refill.
The table quiets slightly.
The waiter scratches the back of his neck.
But suddenly every member at the table is paying attention.
You see Lara’s eyes widen.
Megan immediately looks away, trying—and failing—to hide her grin.
Sophia presses her lips together.
Manon nearly chokes on her drink.
The collective reaction is practically written across their faces.
Right in front of everybody?
Daniela lets out a surprised laugh.
Clearly caught off guard.
“You know,” the waiter says, smiling sheepishly. “Just thought I’d ask.”
The girls are trying so hard not to react.
You have to bite back a laugh yourself.
Because you know the difference between when she’s thinking and when she’s not.
Like her brain is sorting through something.
The answer comes easily enough.
The waiter immediately raises his hands.
“Okay, okay. Had to shoot my shot.”
The entire table bursts into laughter.
“Oh my God,” Lara groans.
Manon drops her head onto the table.
Sophia is openly smiling now.
Even Daniela is laughing.
The waiter shakes his head dramatically before walking away.
The moment passes almost instantly.
Conversation picks right back up.
Lara starts talking again.
Megan makes another joke.
Daniela reaches over and steals another fry from your basket.
Nobody makes a big deal out of it.
But as the conversation continues around you, your attention drifts.
That brief hesitation before her answer.
You stare down at your drink.
The answer itself had been easy.
So why does that split second keep replaying in your head?
Why does it feel louder every time you remember it?
You glance over at Daniela.
She’s smiling at something Sophia is saying, completely relaxed.
And you force yourself to smile too.
Because it was probably nothing.
A meaningless little pause.
Nothing worth thinking about.
Nothing worth remembering.
Yet somehow, you can’t stop remembering it anyway.
You tell yourself it’s fine.
Because objectively, it is.
Daniela literally said she wasn’t single.
So why are you still thinking about it?
The conversation around the table continues like nothing happened.
Because nothing did happen.
Manon is talking about an upcoming schedule.
Lara is arguing with Megan over something completely ridiculous.
Yoonchae is quietly eating while occasionally laughing at everyone else.
She reaches for your hand beneath the table without even looking.
Her fingers find yours automatically.
You squeeze her hand back.
She squeezes yours once before returning her attention to the conversation.
A few minutes later, she steals another fry.
When she laughs too hard at something Megan says, she ends up leaning against your shoulder.
So why can’t you stop thinking about it?
A tiny hesitation that nobody else seemed to care about.
You glance over at Daniela.
Completely unaware of the argument currently happening inside your head.
If the answer was easy, why did she hesitate?
The thought appears before you can stop it.
You immediately try to push it away.
Because that’s ridiculous.
Because you know Daniela.
Because she literally said no.
But the question comes back anyway.
Why did she need to think about it?
Maybe she was caught off guard.
Was she deciding whether to tell him?
The idea makes your chest tighten.
Still, your brain keeps going.
Was she deciding if I counted?
You stare down at the table.
The noise around you suddenly feels farther away.
The thought hurts more than you’d like to admit.
Not because Daniela had done anything wrong.
Not because she had actually said anything hurtful.
But because now that the possibility exists, you can’t stop imagining it.
You remember the way her eyes flickered.
The way her expression shifted for that brief second before answering.
Each time your brain fills in a different explanation.
You hate that you’re doing this.
Hate that you’re dissecting a moment that lasted less than a second.
Hate that you’re letting it get to you.
Especially because Daniela is still sitting right beside you.
Still stealing food from your plate.
Still looking at you the same way she always does.
Except now every time you look at her, that pause echoes in the back of your mind.
And somehow impossible to ignore.
You laugh at one of Lara’s jokes a second too late.
And maybe that’s the worst part.
Because for a moment, you almost believe yourself.
By the time the seven of you get back to the dorm, you’ve almost convinced yourself you’re over it.
The ride home had been normal.
Daniela’s hand finding yours whenever she could.
Everything had been normal.
So normal, in fact, that you start wondering if maybe you’re being ridiculous.
Maybe you imagined the whole thing.
Maybe you’re making a problem out of absolutely nothing.
That thought follows you through dinner, through showers, through the rest of the evening.
Until eventually everyone begins retreating to their rooms.
The dorm settles into a quieter rhythm.
The occasional laugh echoing down the hallway.
You and Daniela end up in her room.
Honestly, at this point neither of you know anymore.
You technically have separate beds.
But somewhere along the way that stopped mattering.
Most nights ended the same.
Tonight should’ve been no different.
Daniela is sitting against the headboard scrolling through her phone when you climb into bed beside her.
Usually you’d immediately steal half the blanket.
Usually you’d complain that she’s taking up too much space.
Usually she’d complain right back.
Instead, you settle down quietly.
A little farther away than normal.
Daniela doesn’t notice at first.
She’s too focused on whatever video Sophia sent the group chat.
But after a few minutes—she does.
You feel it before you see it.
The way her attention shifts.
You keep staring at your phone.
Pretending not to notice.
Then Daniela scoots closer.
Usually you’d meet her halfway.
You can practically hear the gears turning in her head.
You already know that tone.
You lower your phone slightly.
Daniela is staring at you now.
Then she tosses her phone onto the nightstand.
“You’ve been weird for hours.”
Immediately confirming her point.
She shifts closer again until your knees are touching beneath the blanket.
Normally the contact would make you smile.
Tonight it just makes your stomach twist.
Daniela notices that too.
And suddenly she isn’t teasing anymore.
The amusement fades from her face.
You hate when she uses that voice.
Because it always makes it harder to dodge the question.
Daniela reaches for your hand.
When you let her take it, her thumb brushes across your knuckles.
You stare at your intertwined fingers.
Part of you wants to tell her.
The other part thinks you’re being ridiculous.
Because how do you explain that one tiny pause has been haunting you all day?
How do you admit you’ve spent hours overthinking something she probably forgot five minutes later?
And Daniela’s expression slowly changes.
But now there’s something else there too.
Like she’s running through the day in her head.
Trying to find the moment everything shifted.
Trying to figure out what she missed.
And judging by the way her eyes narrow slightly—she’s getting closer.
The room feels smaller than it did five minutes ago.
Maybe it’s because Daniela is looking at you like that.
You keep your eyes fixed on your hands.
Because now that you’re here, now that she’s asking, suddenly it sounds ridiculous.
It’s been bothering you for hours.
The longer you stay quiet, the more Daniela studies your face.
The moment her expression changes.
And somehow that makes your stomach drop.
The words come out quieter than you intended.
For a second, neither of you move.
And somehow that feels worse than if she’d looked confused.
Because she recognized it instantly.
She knows exactly what you’re talking about.
Which means she noticed it too.
Daniela closes her eyes briefly.
Almost like she’s already figured out where this is going.
But it tells you everything.
You hate how embarrassed you feel.
You hate how childish it sounds now that it’s actually leaving your mouth.
You’ve spent the entire day arguing with yourself.
Telling yourself to get over it.
Telling yourself it wasn’t a big deal.
Giving you room to say what you need to say.
Even if it’s uncomfortable.
Finally, you force yourself to look at her.
The words barely rise above a whisper.
Like she’s finally seeing the picture you’ve been staring at all day.
Because now that you’ve said it out loud, it sounds even worse.
A humorless little thing.
Your voice cracks slightly.
Just enough to annoy you.
“It was just one second.”
Which somehow makes it easier to keep talking.
And harder at the same time.
“It shouldn’t even matter.”
You stare down at the blanket gathered in your lap.
“But I keep thinking about it.”
The confession hangs between you.
You hadn’t planned on saying this much.
But now that you’ve started, you can’t stop.
“If the answer was easy…” You swallow. “Why did you have to think about it?”
Daniela’s eyes immediately soften.
Which somehow hurts more.
Now she knows exactly where your brain went.
Daniela nods immediately.
The room is so quiet you can hear the air conditioner humming somewhere in the background.
Because the next part is the part you’re most embarrassed to admit.
The part you’ve been avoiding all day.
The part that’s been replaying in your head over and over.
“At first I thought maybe you were surprised.”
Daniela doesn’t interrupt.
“Then I thought maybe you were trying to decide if you wanted to tell him.”
The words leave your mouth before you can stop them.
You hate them immediately.
Daniela’s expression crumples.
Like she wishes she could reach back in time and stop this before it ever happened.
Because saying it out loud makes it real.
Daniela’s hand tightens around yours.
Just enough to remind you she’s there.
When you finally speak again, your voice is barely audible.
“I started wondering if you were deciding whether I counted.”
The words sit in the room between you.
You immediately wish you could take them back.
Daniela’s face falls completely.
And in that moment, you realize she finally understands.
Not just what happened at the restaurant.
Not just why you’ve been quiet all night.
She understands what you’ve spent the last several hours convincing yourself of.
What you’ve been carrying around since lunch.
The fear underneath all of it.
The fear that for one second—one tiny, awful second—she had to think about choosing you.
And judging by the look on Daniela’s face, that’s the last thing she ever wanted you to believe.
For a moment, neither of you speak.
The words linger in the air.
I started wondering if you were deciding whether I counted.
The second the sentence leaves your mouth, you want to take it back.
Not because it isn’t true.
But because hearing it out loud makes it sound so much worse than it did inside your head.
Then her expression softens.
You can’t bring yourself to look at her.
“That’s not why I paused.”
You stare down at your lap.
The blanket twists between your fingers.
The question comes out smaller than you intended.
Close enough that your shoulders brush.
Close enough that you can feel her presence beside you.
She doesn’t rush to answer.
Doesn’t try to brush it off.
Doesn’t tell you you’re overthinking.
And honestly, that alone makes something in your chest loosen.
Because she’s taking it seriously.
Even if the whole thing started with a one-second pause.
“I was caught off guard.”
Daniela must see it on your face because she continues.
“I wasn’t thinking about whether I was single.”
Her eyes meet yours immediately.
“I wasn’t thinking about you.”
The second she says it, her eyes widen.
“Wait, that came out wrong.”
Despite everything, you almost laugh.
A tiny smile threatens to appear.
Maybe that’s why her shoulders relax a little.
She takes your hand again.
Holding it carefully between both of hers.
“When he asked, my first thought wasn’t about my relationship status.”
Choosing her words carefully.
“I was trying to decide how much of my business a complete stranger gets to know.”
She continues before you can respond.
“Because if I say I have a girlfriend, that’s different.”
Your eyebrows pull together.
“You know how people are.”
You know exactly what she means.
The way one casual sentence can somehow become everyone’s discussion topic for the next week.
Daniela leans back against the headboard.
“I was wondering if I wanted to deal with that.”
“I was wondering if I wanted to answer at all.”
To the way she’d looked surprised.
To that tiny flicker in her eyes.
“I wasn’t sitting there deciding if I wanted you.”
The statement is immediate.
Like she needs you to hear it.
Daniela squeezes your hand.
Her expression softens again the second your eyes meet.
“The answer wasn’t what I was thinking about.”
Daniela’s thumb brushes across your knuckles.
Something in your chest cracks.
Like tension finally giving way.
Like a knot that’s been pulled tight all day finally starting to unravel.
Daniela shakes her head slightly.
“If he’d asked me what I wanted to order, I probably would’ve paused longer.”
A reluctant laugh escapes you.
Daniela immediately points.
But this time there’s no real weight behind it.
Just the lingering embarrassment of having spent an entire day torturing yourself over something that suddenly feels so much smaller.
Daniela notices the shift immediately.
The way your shoulders aren’t quite as tense.
The way you’re finally looking at her again.
Like she’s just happy you’re letting her explain.
Happy that you’re letting her in.
Because if there’s one thing Daniela has made clear tonight, it’s that she never wants you sitting alone with those fears when she’d much rather be there to answer them herself.
For a second, neither of you say anything.
Not because any of this is particularly funny.
Mostly because you’ve spent the last several hours making yourself miserable over something that now feels embarrassingly small.
You shake your head, still laughing.
You hide your face in your hands.
Immediately, Daniela knows.
“You really thought I was sitting there debating whether I wanted you?”
You bury your face in a pillow.
Daniela falls back against the headboard dramatically.
“That’s a full work shift.”
“It is entirely your fault.”
You throw a pillow at her.
Somewhere down the hall, a voice yells:
“ARE THEY DONE BEING SAD?”
You immediately close your eyes.
“You weren’t right about anything!” you yell back.
A muffled “I WAS CLOSE ENOUGH” echoes through the hallway.
The two of you dissolve into laughter.
Just like that, the last bit of tension disappears.
Daniela nudges your shoulder with hers.
“You know you could’ve just told me earlier.”
“Could’ve saved yourself six hours.”
“Could’ve saved me from finding out my girlfriend thinks I secretly hate her.”
“That is not what I said.”
Daniela gives you a look.
You immediately look away.
The kind of grin that tells you she’s going to bring this up again later.
You already regret telling her.
Eventually, you shift closer on your own.
Just settling into the familiar space beside her.
Daniela’s arm slips around your shoulders automatically.
Neither of you mention it.
A comfortable silence settles over the room.
“Next time somebody asks if I’m single, I’m just pointing at you.”
“That’s so embarrassing.”
“Seems pretty efficient to me.”
You pull the blanket over your face.
And for the first time since lunch, the memory of that stupid pause doesn’t replay in your head.
Instead, all you can think about is how annoying she is.
Which feels a lot more normal.
