skye ⭑

it was actually painful to watch. like, physically painful.

you stood by the vending machines, pretending to be deeply invested in the ingredients of a strawberry milk carton, but your eyes were entirely glued to the courtyard. a few yards away, valerie and seonghyeon were standing next to each other. standing. not talking, not moving—just vibrating with an absurd, ridiculous amount of sheer pining.

val was doing that thing where she adjusted her backpack strap every three seconds, her cheeks a bright, stupid shade of pink, while seonghyeon stared at a spot just past her left ear like it held the secrets to the universe. he cleared his throat. she dropped her pen. they both bent down to grab it, bumped foreheads, scrambled backward like they’d just touched live wires, and immediately started apologising to the floor.

oh my god, you thought, pinching the bridge of your nose. someone put them out of their misery. please.

“if they keep this up, they’re going to single-handedly lower the average iq of this entire school.”

you jumped, nearly dropping your strawberry milk. you whipped around to find ahn keonho—seonghyeon’s best friend—leaning against the locker next to you. he had his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his dark eyes fixed on the exact same trainwreck in the courtyard. his face was a picture of exhaustion.

“keonho,” you breathed, clutching your chest. “don’t sneak up on me like that! and also—yes. thank you. it’s a literal crime against humanity. do they not realise how loud they’re being without even speaking?”

“it’s deafening,” keonho agreed, a slow, sarcastic smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked down at you. “hyeon has been sighing into his textbook for three days straight. i can’t study. my grades are suffering. it’s a tragedy.”

“val spent forty minutes yesterday asking me if ‘hey’ with one y meant he hated her,” you groaned, throwing your hands up. “we’re living in a literal psychological horror film.”

keonho chuckled, a low, quiet sound that did something weirdly fluttery to your stomach—not that you had time to analyse that disaster right now. he tilted his head toward the courtyard, where valerie and seonghyeon were currently walking in opposite directions, both looking thoroughly miserable.

“so,” keonho said, his eyes dropping to yours, holding your gaze with a sudden, sharp intensity that made your breath hitch. “are we just gonna stand here and watch them suffer, or are we actually going to do something about it?”

you grinned, your eyes lighting up with dangerous, chaotic energy. “oh, keonho. i thought you’d never ask.”

☆

the blueprint for operation: true love was officially drawn up the very next day in the back corner of a cramped, neon-lit convenience store.

you slammed a notebook down on the plastic table, right next to keonho’s banana milk. “if we’re doing this, we need ground rules. methodical, airtight rules. we cannot afford to mess this up.”

keonho picked up his milk, taking a slow sip while browsing your hastily scribbled list with raised eyebrows. “rule number one: no k-drama tropes? you’re killing my vibe, yn! i was looking forward to orchestrating a dramatic rainstorm.”

“man, i’m serious!” you hissed, leaning over the table. “and rule number two is the most important: absolute secrecy. if val finds out i’m meddling, she will literally migrate to antarctica out of pure embarrassment. and if seonghyeon finds out…”

“he’ll lock himself in his room and study calculus until graduation,” keonho finished dryly, spinning a pen between his fingers. he leaned forward, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a lazy, challenging tilt. “alright. partner. what’s step one?”

☆ 

step one, as it turned out, was a catastrophic failure.

you had meticulously engineered a ‘casual hangout’ at a trendy cafe near school. the pitch was simple: val and you were going, keonho and seonghyeon just happened to be there, and oh wow, look at that, let’s just grab a booth together!

it took exactly four minutes for the plan to crash and burn.

instead of hitting it off, val and seonghyeon had apparently lost the ability to function as human beings. they sat directly across from each other, radiating an aura of awkwardness so thick it was practically tangible. val was aggressively tearing her paper napkin into microscopic shreds, her eyes glued to her lap. across from her, seonghyeon was holding his iced americano with both hands, staring into the dark liquid like it held the secrets to the universe, occasionally clearing his throat but saying absolutely nothing.

the silence stretching across the table was deafening.

you kicked keonho under the table. do something, you screamed with your eyes. he winced slightly, shooting you a sharp look before clearing his own throat. “so, seonghyeon. you… like coffee. right?”

seonghyeon blinked slowly, looking up. “yeah. it’s… bitter.”

val suddenly squeaked, her head snapping up. “i like bitter things too! i mean—not that bitter. like, dark chocolate. but coffee is good. the beans. you know?” she immediately looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

 seonghyeon nodded solemnly. “beans are essential to coffee.”

you bit the inside of your cheek so hard you tasted copper. under the table, keonho’s foot nudged yours. when you looked at him, he was biting his lower lip, his shoulders faintly shaking as he desperately tried to suppress a laugh.

“right, great, wonderful! beans!” you practically shouted, trying to salvage the wreckage. “speaking of essentials, keonho, didn’t you say you wanted to try that… new strawberry tart? let’s go look at the display counter, c’mon.”

before he could object, you grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of the booth, leaving the two pining statues behind.

the second you reached the safety of the ordering counter, you slumped against the glass display, letting out a massive, exhausted groan. “oh my god. i can’t do this. i’m going to have a stroke before the semester ends.”

keonho let out the laugh he’d been holding back, a low, rich sound that vibrated right through you. he leaned against the counter next to you, crossing his arms. “i told you. ‘beans are essential’? that’s peak romance right there. we should just let them walk down the aisle now.”

“shut up,” you groaned, buried your face in your hands. “they’re literally painful to watch. why are they like this?”

“because they’re idiots,” keonho said softly. you dropped your hands to look at him, finding him already looking down at you. his usual sarcastic smirk was softened by a genuine, amused warmth. “but hey, you’re not doing too bad. your beans transition was flawless.”

“you’re making fun of me.”

“a little bit,” he admitted, his eyes crinkling at the corners. he nudged his shoulder against yours, a casual gesture that suddenly made the crowded cafe feel very small and very warm. “but seriously. we’re in this together now. we just have to be smarter than them. which, judging by the current situation, isn’t a very high bar…”

you laughed, the frustration melting away, replaced by a strange, fluttering warmth in your chest. as you both stood there, looking back at the booth where val and seonghyeon were still sitting in absolute, agonising silence, you realised something terrifying.

carrying this double date was exhausting—but standing here, sharing the panic with keonho? it was the most fun you’d had all week.

☆

the ‘strategising’ sessions quickly became a daily necessity, though if anyone asked, you’d swear it was purely for the sake of the mission.

it started with a shared google document, which keonho immediately vandalised with sarcastic comments, and quickly escalated to meeting up outside of school. at first, it was just the library after school. then, it was the convenience store. by week three, you had a designated corner booth at a late-night diner three blocks from your house, surrounded by scattered notebooks, half-eaten fries, and a ridiculous amount of mutual brain rot.

“okay, hear me out,” you whispered, leaning so far across the booth’s sticky table that your collarbone was practically touching your cold milkshake. “next friday is the school festival. we slip a note into seonghyeon’s locker telling him to meet a ‘secret admirer’ behind the gym. but—plot twist—we slip the exact same note into val’s locker. they show up, and boom, trapped in an enclosed space. they have to talk.”

keonho, who was currently balancing a fry on his index finger, looked up at you with flat, unimpressed eyes. “yn, that’s a parent-teacher association lawsuit waiting to happen. what if they get locked in? what if the gym teacher finds them and thinks they’re skipping class to make out?”

“then the mission is accomplished!” you insisted, tapping your pen against his knuckles to make him pay attention. “focus, keonho. we are losing momentum. yesterday, val literally ran away from him because he offered her a piece of gum. fuckass gum. she thought it was a declaration of war.”

keonho laughed, his shoulders dropping as he leaned forward, mirroring your posture. he rested his chin in his hand, his dark eyes glittering with that lazy, teasing warmth that you were slowly—and dangerously—becoming addicted to.

“she’s dramatic. just like her best friend,” he murmured.

“excuse me? i’m highly pragmatic,” you shot back, though your cheeks warmed up under his steady gaze.

“sure you are. that’s why you have a colour-coded excel sheet for our best friends’ love lives.” he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours as he took the pen from your hand, spinning it lazily. “but seriously. we can’t do the locker thing. seonghyeon is too smart. he’ll recognise the handwriting, or worse, he’ll think it’s a prank and won’t go.”

“fine. what’s your brilliant idea, genius?”

he tapped the pen against his chin, his eyes dropping to your lips for a split second before darting back to your eyes. “we do a group study session. at my place. my parents are out next weekend.”

your heart did a sudden, violent flip-flop. “your place?”

“yeah. we invite both of them. then, twenty minutes before they arrive, you and i conveniently get ‘stuck’ at the grocery store buying snacks. we leave them alone in the apartment. seonghyeon’s awkward, but he’s a gentleman, so he’ll have to host her. they’ll have to talk!”

it was actually a really good plan. simple, low-risk, and highly effective. but your brain was currently stuck on a completely different detail.

“wait,” you said, your voice dropping a fraction. “so… we’d be hanging out? just the two of us? at the grocery store?”

he paused. the lazy smirk on his face faltered, just for a second, replaced by a subtle, sudden tension. he cleared his throat, his fingers tightening slightly around your pen.

“i mean. yeah. if we want the excuse to be believable, we have to actually go buy the snacks,” he said, his voice a little lower than usual. he looked down at the table, drawing mindless circles on the napkin with the pen. “unless… you don’t want to spend that much time with me outside of this…”

“no!” you said a little too quickly, a little too loud. a couple of juniors at the counter turned to look at you, and you immediately shrunk back into the booth, your face burning. “i mean—no, that’s fine. i don’t mind. i like… strategising with you.”

keonho looked back up, a slow, incredibly soft smile spreading across his face. it wasn’t his usual sarcastic smirk. it was genuine, quiet, and it made your chest ache in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with anything else in that moment—except ahn keonho.

“good,” he murmured, sliding the pen back across the table until it brushed against your knuckles. “because i’m starting to think the strategy sessions are the best part of my week.”

your breath caught, the cool plastic of the pen pressing against your skin feeling suddenly electric. before you could fumble for a response, keonho tapped the notebook, his classic, lazy smirk sliding back into place as if he hadn’t just thrown your entire internal monologue into a tailspin. “back to work, partner. next weekend is the big day.”

☆

the day of the study session arrived with a torrential downpour, which you chose to interpret as a brilliant atmospheric blessing for the mission.

operation: trapped in the apartment was officially a go.

keonho and you had arrived at his place early under the pretense of ‘setting up’, but the second the clock hit 1:40 PM—exactly twenty minutes before valerie and seonghyeon were scheduled to arrive—keonho threw his keys onto the counter and looked at you.

“right,” he said, checking his watch. “time to execute the snack heist. text them now.”

your fingers flew across your screen, sending a highly calculated, slightly frantic text to the group chat.

hey guys!! keonho and i realised we have literally zero food at his place 😭😭 so we’re sprinting to the grocery store down the street! the door is unlocked, so js go on in and make yourselves at home, alr?

“sent,” you breathed, looking up at him and pocketing yiur phone. “let’s go.”

the walk to the neighborhood grocery store was a chaotic scramble under a single, violently shaking umbrella. keonho had naturally taken the handle, his tall frame blocking the worst of the wind, but the sheer proximity meant your shoulders were glued together the entire three blocks. every time his arm brushed against yours to steady the umbrella, your heart did a stupid, nervous little stutter.

by the time you burst through the automatic glass doors of the store, you were laughing, shaking the raindrops from your hair.

“okay, we need to drag this out,” you whispered conspiratorially, grabbing a red plastic shopping basket and handing it to him. “we need to give them at least thirty minutes of pure, uninterrupted awkwardness so they’re forced to converse. walk slow. evaluate the snacks with extreme scrutiny, soldier.”

keonho snorted, following you into the chip aisle. “extreme scrutiny. right. let me check the structural integrity of these potato chips.”

for the next twenty minutes, the grocery store became your own personal playground. you dragged keonho from aisle to aisle, holding up random items and demanding his opinion.

“do you think seonghyeon is a sour cream and onion guy, or does he radiate standard salted energy?” you asked, holding up two bags.

keonho paused, leaning against the handle of the shopping basket, his eyes fixed on you with a look of amusement. “he’s definitely standard salted. completely predictable. unlike someone else i know who tries to buy literal seaweed snacks for a high-stakes romance intervention.”

“hey! seaweed is an elite study snack,” you pouted, tossing a pack into the basket anyway.

as you walked toward the beverage section, you checked your phone. no texts from val. no texts from seonghyeon.

“silence on the front,” you reported, turning back to him. “either they’re finally talking, or they’ve mutually decided to pretend the other doesn’t exist. do you think we should go back?”

keonho didn’t answer right away. he was standing near the glass drink coolers, the cool, fluorescent light catching the sharp angle of his jaw. he reached out, taking a bottle of banana milk from the shelf, but instead of putting it in the basket, he just held it, his dark eyes dropping to look at you.

“let’s give them ten more minutes,” he said softly. the teasing tone was gone, replaced by a quiet, deliberate slowness. “no need to rush back to the awkward chaos.”

“yeah?” you murmured, suddenly feeling very warm despite the air-conditioned aisle.

“yeah,” he said, a gentle smile touching his lips. he took a step closer, his shoulder lightly brushing yours as he placed the milk in the basket. “besides, i’m enjoying the grocery store hangout. it’s… nice. just us.”

your stomach did a violent, dizzying flip. you quickly turned your head toward the display case, pretending to be intensely fascinated by the rows of soda cans just to hide the raging blush creeping up your neck. you nodded quickly. “yeah. just us. it’s nice.”

by the time you finally walked back into keonho’s apartment, the air in the living room was thick with tension. val and seonghyeon were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, both staring at the textbook on the coffee table like it was a live bomb. val’s face was bright red, and seonghyeon looked like he had forgotten how to breathe through his nose.

keonho and you exchanged a quick, victorious glance behind their backs. the mission had been a success. they had survived thirty minutes alone.

but as you went to the kitchen to unpack the snacks, you weren’t thinking about either of your friends at all. you were still thinking about the way keonho’s voice had sounded in the drink aisle, low and private, completely shifting the gravity of the room.

☆

the ‘demonstration’ was entirely your idea. at least, that was the lie you kept telling yourself to ignore the frantic, drum-like beating of your heart.

it started on a tuesday afternoon. the four of you had been studying in the library, and val had spent twenty minutes staring at seonghyeon’s hands as he wrote down math formulas. later, when the two of them had left to get water, valerie had practically collapsed against your shoulder, whispering in a panicked rush, “yn, his hands are so nice. what if he held my hand? how do people even do that casually? what if my hands are sweaty? what if i ruin everything?”

so, naturally, during your late-night strategy session at the playground near your house, you brought it up.

“she’s overthinking the physical stuff,” you sighed, swinging lazily on the swingset. “she’s terrified of how a guy would actually initiate anything. she needs to see that it’s not some big, terrifying event.”

keonho, who was leaning against the metal chain of the swing next to yours, let out a soft huff. “it’s literally just holding hands. it’s not rocket science.”

“to val, it is!” you defended, turning in your swing to face him. “she needs an example. like… how a guy would actually do it. casually. so she knows what to expect. and i can’t really help ber because it’s not like i’ve held a guy’s hand before either.” you huffed. 

keonho stared at you for a long moment, the cool night breeze rustling his dark hair. he let out a slow, quiet breath, his gaze dropping to your hands resting on the swing chains. 

“fine,” he murmured, stepping off his swing. he walked over and stopped right in front of you, his tall frame casting a long shadow over yours. “i’ll show you. for… educational purposes.”

“right. educational,” you swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was standing. you stood up, and you both began walking around the park.

“okay. say you’re walking next to her,” he said, his voice dropping into a low, calm register. “you don’t just grab her hand out of nowhere. that’s weird. you wait for a transition. like, your shoulders brush.” he leaned in slightly, his shoulder gently bumping yours. a tiny jolt of electricity shot down your spine.

“and then?” your voice sounded breathy, even to your own ears.

“and then, you look at her. you check if she’s comfortable.” he looked down at you, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made the rest of the playground completely fade away. he reached out slowly. his fingers, warm and slightly calloused, brushed against the back of your hand. “if she doesn’t pull away… you just… slide your fingers in.”

slowly, deliberately, keonho slipped his fingers between yours, his palm pressing warm and firm against your own. his hand was large, wrapping completely around yours, holding it with a gentle but protective pressure.

you forgot how to breathe. your eyes darted down to your joined hands, then back up to his face.

he wasn’t smirking. the sarcastic, teasing boy you thought you knew was entirely gone. instead, he was staring at you with a quiet, almost vulnerable focus, his thumb tracing a slow, agonizing circle over the back of your knuckles.

“like that,” he whispered, his voice incredibly soft. “that’s how a guy would do it. gently. so she knows he’s actually paying attention to her.”

“ah, i… see,” you managed to squeak out. you should have pulled your hand away. the demonstration was over. but you didn’t move, and neither did he. for a long, suspended second, you just stood there in the quiet night, hands tightly locked, the boundaries of your ‘partnership’ dissolving into nothing.

☆

after that night, the shift was impossible to ignore. the lines weren’t blurred; they were completely erased.

keonho started looking at you differently. he no longer looked past you or lazy-eyed during your planning sessions. when a plan succeeded—like the time you fully engineered a scenario where seonghyeon had to walk valerie to her bus stop—you had let out a triumphant squeal, grabbing keonho’s shoulders and shaking him.

instead of teasing you, keonho had just stood there, his hands coming up to gently rest on your waist to steady you. he had watched the bright, victorious grin on your face, with a look of absolute, breathtaking fondness crossing his features. he realised, right then, that your fierce loyalty and the passionate, chaotic way you cared for your friends was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. he didn’t care about the mission anymore. he just wanted to be the one who made you laugh like that.

and you were realising things, too.

you realised keonho wasn’t just a sarcastic jerk who got dragged into your schemes. he was the guy who remembered exactly how you liked your acai. he was the one who, when a sudden draft hit the library, silently draped his uniform jacket over your shoulders without you even having to ask, his fingers lingering on your collarbone for just a second too long.

he was reliable. he was attentive. and every single time he looked up from his notebook, caught your eye, and gave you that private, slow smile meant only for you, your stomach flipped and your heart beat faster.

you were supposed to be playing cupid. but looking at him now, you realised you had accidentally walked right into your own trap.

☆

the problem with succeeding at a mission is that, eventually, the mission… ends.

it started when val stopped texting you 911 flashes over a single-letter text message. then, during a tuesday lunch break, you watched in utter disbelief as seonghyeon casually reached across the table and slid his bag of chips over to her without a single foreheaded-collision or stammered apology. she took them, smiled, and her cheeks turned a very normal, incredibly soft shade of pink.

they were doing it. they were functioning like normal human beings.

and it was absolutely devastating.

because suddenly, the shared google document lay untouched for three days straight. the frantic, late-night phone calls detailing ‘tactical romantic interventions’ completely ceased. you sat at your desk at home, staring at your phone, waiting for it to buzz with a dry, sarcastic comment from keonho about how seonghyeon had accidentally breathed in val’s direction again… but the phone stayed dark.

when you did see keonho at school, the air between you felt thick, heavy with a strange, unspoken panic. one afternoon, you ran into him by the lockers. you gripped the strap of your backpack, trying to sound casual. “so… no emergencies today? i guess the locker plan is officially retired.”

keonho leaned against the locker, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. he looked exhausted, his dark eyes scanning your face with a restless, intense focus that made your lungs feel tight. he let out a low, rough breath. “yeah. looks like they’ve got it covered. seonghyeon didn’t sigh once during study hall today. it’s a miracle.”

“a miracle,” you repeated, the word tasting like ash. you forced a small smile. “we did it, partner. mission accomplished.”

he didn’t smile back. his jaw tightened, his eyes dropping to your lips for a agonisingly long second before he looked away, clearing his throat. “right. mission accomplished. guess i’ll… see you around, then.”

he walked away, and you stood there, your chest aching with a hollow, crushing realisation. you had spent so much time orchestrating a love story for your best friends that you hadn’t realised you were completely dependent on the boy who was helping you build it. you didn’t want the operation to end. you wanted an excuse. 

you wanted him. 

but you were too terrified to say it out loud, and judging by the cold distance he was suddenly keeping, you figured he was just relieved to finally have his free time back.

☆

the breaking point arrived on a thursday after school, and it didn’t involve valerie or seonghyeon at all.

you were waiting by the school gates for val, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, when louis, a popular junior who was your age (and a year younger than keonho) from the soccer team, walked up to you. he was tall, confidently leaning one arm against the brick wall right above your head, flashing a charming, practiced smile.

“hey,” louis said, his voice smooth. “you’re yn, right? friends with valerie? i’ve seen you around a lot lately. you’re pretty funny.”

you blinked, completely caught off guard. “oh. uh, thanks?”

“i was wondering,” he continued, tilting his head closer, his eyes scanning your face in a way that made you feel incredibly weird. wrong-weird. “are you doing anything this weekend?”

“i’m… busy, actually.”

“there’s this new arcade opening downtown. i thought maybe we could go together. just the two of us.” i heard you liked arcades…”

your brain short-circuited. you opened your mouth to stammer out a polite rejection again, but before a single syllable could leave your lips, a heavy, suffocating shadow fell over both of you.

“she’s busy,” a cold, lethal voice cut through the air.

you whipped your head around. keonho was standing there. you had never seen him look like this. the lazy, sarcastic, easygoing boy was completely gone. his face was set in a hard, dangerous mask, his eyes flashing with an icy, unbridled fury that actually made you step back. he didn’t even look at louis; his gaze was entirely fixed on the junior’s arm against the wall, his jaw clenching so hard you could see the muscle tick.

louis frowned, dropping his arm and stepping back, annoyed. “excuse me? who are you?”

keonho stepped directly into louis’s personal space, effectively cutting him off from you. he was slightly taller, his broad shoulders completely blocking your view of the senior. the aura radiating off keonho was so fiercely protective, so heavy with territorial jealousy, that the entire courtyard seemed to go dead silent.

“i’m the guy telling you to back off,” keonho said, his voice dangerously low, vibrating with a quiet threat that made louis’ confidence visibly evaporate. keonho reached back, his hand blindly finding your wrist, his fingers gripping you with a tight, unyielding pressure. “she said she’s busy, didn’t she? move along.”

louis looked between keonho’s expression and his tight grip on your wrist, raised his hands in defeat, and muttered a hurried, “whatever, man,” before turning on his heel and walking away.

the second he was gone, the silence rushed back in. your heart was pounding so hard against your ribs it felt physical. your brain was entirely fried. 

ahn keonho. protective. jealous. what?

keonho didn’t let go of your wrist. he finally turned around to look at you, his chest heaving slightly as he breathed. the fury in his eyes was rapidly melting into a raw, panicked vulnerability. he looked down at where his hand was tightly gripping your wrist, his fingers trembling slightly before he abruptly let go, stepping back as if he’d just been burned.

“keon—” you started, your voice shaking.

“don’t,” he muttered, rubbing a hand violently over his face, refusing to meet your eyes. “just… don’t, yn.”

without another word, he turned and stormed out of the school gates, leaving you standing there in the middle of the courtyard, your skin still burning where his fingers had been, your mind completely, utterly shattered.

the confrontation happened that very same evening, and the universe, in all its dramatic glory, decided to finally break the sky open.

a sudden, violent downpour had trapped you inside the municipal library down the street from the school. it was past 8:00 PM, and the building was practically empty, the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights mixing with the heavy, rhythmic thrum of rain against the large glass windows.

you walked out of the study aisles, swinging your umbrella in your hand, when you saw him.

keonho was sitting at a lone table near the back windows, staring out into the dark, rain-slicked streets. a textbook lay open in front of him, but he hadn’t turned a page in hours.

your breath caught in your throat. you gripped your umbrella tighter, your legs moving before your brain could talk you out of it. you walked over, the squeak of your sneakers on the floor cutting through the quiet. you stopped right at the edge of his table.

he slowly looked up. seeing you, his expression guarded over, that exhausting, distant mask sliding back into place. “yn. it’s late. you should be home.”

“you ran away,” you whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. you stepped closer, slamming your hands flat onto the wooden table, leaning in. the frustration, the panic, the weeks of tension finally snapped inside you. “you literally lost your mind this afternoon, acted like you wanted to murder a guy for just talking to me, and then you ran away. you’ve been avoiding me for a week, keonho. what is your problem?”

he stood up so fast his chair scraped violently against the floor, the loud screech echoing through the empty library as you stepped back. he skirted around the table, cornering you against the bookshelf, his tall frame looming over yours, trapping you in his space just like he had at the playground. but this time, there was no gentle demonstration.

“my problem?” he echoed, his voice a low, furious hiss that vibrated right through your chest. his dark eyes were wild, completely stripping away every single ounce of his usual sarcastic armor. he leaned down, his face inches from yours, his breath warm against your lips. “you want to know what my problem is, yn? my problem is that i can’t think straight anymore. my problem is that i spent the last month pretending to care about seonghyeon’s love life just so i could have an excuse to hold your hand in the middle of the night.”

your eyes widened as you stared up at him, your heart hammering a frantic, drum-like beat against your ribs.

“we won, yn. they’re fine. the operation is over,” keonho whispered, his voice cracking slightly with a raw honesty that made your throat tight. he stepped even closer, his hand coming up to rest on the bookshelf right next to your head, his fingers trembling. he looked down at you, his eyes filled with a desperate, terrifying vulnerability.

“so tell me right now,” he said, his voice dropping into a breathless plea that completely shattered what was left of your sanity. “are we still doing this for them… or is this about us?”

the silence that followed was suffocating, heavy enough to drown out the relentless downpour slamming against the glass windows behind him.

you stared up at him, your lips parted, your brain entirely jammed on the echo of his voice. ‘just so i could have an excuse to hold your hand’. the words played on a loop, short-circuiting every logical defense you had spent weeks building.

keonho was still leaning over you, his knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the bookshelf. he was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling just inches from yours, his gaze locked onto your eyes like he was drowning and waiting for you to throw him a lifeline. the terrifying honesty bleeding out of him was completely uncharacteristic of the boy who usually hid behind dry remarks and a cynical smirk. he looked completely undone. by you.

“keonho…” you breathed, the sound barely escaping your throat.

your hand, acting entirely on its own accord, reached up. your fingers trembled slightly as they brushed against the damp fabric of his school uniform jacket, right over his chest. underneath your palm, you could feel it—the frantic, violent thudding of his heart, racing just as dangerously fast as yours.

“i don’t think it was ever about them,” you whispered, the truth finally breaking through the panic. you looked up into his dark eyes, your own vision blurring slightly with the sheer intensity of the moment. “at least… not for a long time. i was just too terrified to admit it because i thought you were only doing this out of obligation. i thought you wanted your free time back.”

he let out a low, ragged breath, the tension in his shoulders visibly fracturing. a sudden, breathless laugh escaped his lips—a sound of pure, desperate relief.

“you’re an idiot,” he murmured, but his voice was incredibly thick, completely devoid of any actual bite.

before you could react, his hand left the bookshelf. his warm, large palm slid up the side of your neck, his thumb resting gently against your jawline, tilting your face up. the touch was so tender, so desperately attentive, that it made your knees feel weak. he leaned down, his forehead resting gently against yours, closing the final, unbearable distance between you.

“i don’t care about my free time,” he whispered against your skin, his breath hitching. “i just want you. i’ve wanted you since the first day you dragged me into that convenience store.”

you didn’t answer with words. you couldn’t. instead, you reached up, your fingers tangling into the damp strands of hair at the nape of his neck, and pulled him down that last fraction of an inch.

the kiss was everything you had imagined it to be—intense, breathless, and heavy with the pent-up frustration of the last month. keonho’s grip on your jaw tightened slightly, pulling you flush against his chest as he kissed you with a deep, consuming fervor that made the rest of the world completely cease to exist. there were no plans, no tactical interventions, and no meticulously engineered scenarios. it was just him, his lips warm and desperate against yours, completely rewriting the rules of the operation you had built together.

when he finally pulled back, just enough to breathe, his eyes were bright, a slow, genuinely happy smile breaking across his face—the kind of smile he had never given anyone else.

“so,” he murmured, his thumb lazily tracing your lower lip, his voice dropping back into that familiar, teasing cadence you loved. “does this mean operation: true love is officially a success?”

you let out a soft laugh, wrapping your arms securely around his neck, pulling him right back in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “mission accomplished, partner.”

☆

the problem with officially becoming a couple after weeks of playing top-secret masterminds was that the habit of secrecy didn’t just disappear.

in fact, it became an entirely new game.

“if val finds out we’re together before she and seonghyeon actually figure their lives out, she’ll think we were distracted,” you whispered fiercely, your back pressed against the brick wall of the old equipment shed behind the gym.

keonho was standing right in front of you, his hands resting on either side of your waist, trapping you in his shadow with that lazy, familiar tilt of his head. he looked thoroughly unbothered by the high stakes of your ongoing secrecy. “distracted? yn, i’m highly focused. look at me. i’m the definition of dedicated.”

“keonho, i’m serious,” you gasped, your hands flat against his chest as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “if they catch us—”

“they won’t, angel,” he murmured, his thumb rubbing a slow, distracting circle into the fabric of your shirt. “seonghyeon is currently staring at a vending machine trying to decide if buying valerie a green tea is too ‘forward’. we have at least ten minutes.”

you let out a helpless laugh, tilting your head up to catch his lips in a quick kiss. it was chaotic, thrilling, and completely ridiculous. you were hiding in plain sight, sitting at opposite ends of the lunch table during the day, only to exchange lingering glances when no one was looking, or sliding your feet together under the desk during study hall.

but the final push for the original targets couldn’t wait any longer.

☆

the ‘push’ happened on a friday afternoon. 

keonho and you had quite literally engineered a situation involving a malfunctioning classroom door, a misplaced key, and a very deliberate ‘accidental’ lock-in during cleanup duty. you had shoved valerie into the room, keonho had pushed seonghyeon right after her, and you had clicked the lock into place from the outside with a triumphant snap.

through the small glass window of the door, you watched valerie panic and seonghyeon freeze.

“you have one hour!” you yelled through the door. “talk about your feelings or you’re sleeping here!”

“yn! open the door!” val shrieked, her face turning a bright scarlet.

keonho leaned against the wall next to you, crossing his arms and checking his watch. “don’t bother knocking, seonghyeon. i took the spare key from the faculty office. it’s a flawless trap.”

it took exactly forty-two minutes of agonising silence, followed by ten minutes of muffled, tearful shouting, before the window revealed a sight that made you squeal in victory. seonghyeon had his jacket wrapped around valerie’s shoulders, and her hand was firmly, properly tucked into his. they were finally, officially, talking.

the celebration hangout took place at the same late-night diner keonho and you had frequented during your spy missions. the mood was insane, fries were piled high, and val was practically glowing, her hand not leaving seonghyeon’s for a single second.

you were practically radiating pride, leaning back in the booth. “i’m just saying, the locked-door strategy was a stroke of absolute genius. we deserve a medal.”

keonho chuckled, sipping his banana milk. “a medal is standard. i was thinking a monument in the school courtyard.”

val suddenly stopped chewing her fry. she exchanged a long, incredibly knowing look with seonghyeon. seonghyeon cleared his throat, setting his drink down with a slow, deliberate slowness that felt eerily familiar.

“right,” val said, leaning across the table, her eyes darting between you and keonho. "so, are you guys going to stop acting like you’re in a low-budget spy movie now, or do we have to keep pretending we haven’t seen you kissing behind the equipment shed for the last two weeks?”

you froze, your strawberry milk freezing halfway to your mouth. “what?”

“you guys do know everyone knows you’re together, right?” seonghyeon added dryly, a rare, amused smirk touching his face. 0keonho, you literally wore her hair tie on your wrist during gym class last tuesday. you don’t even have long hair.”

your brain completely short-circuited. you whipped your head to look at keonho, whose ears were suddenly turning a very distinct, bright shade of pink. the masterminds had been compromised. you had played yourselves so hard.

“we were… we were being subtle!” you protested, burying your face in your hands as val burst out laughing.

“you really weren’t,” val beamed, reaching over to pat your arm. “but we appreciate the effort. and the locked door.”

an hour later, as the diner started to clear out, keonho caught your wrist under the table, tugging you gently. “come with me for a second.”

he led you down the narrow hallway toward the back exit of the diner, away from the noise of the main room, stopping in the quiet, dimly lit alleyway just outside. the cool night air hit your face, a stark contrast to the warm, fry-scented air inside.

keonho let go of your wrist, but he didn’t step back. he let out a long, slightly breathless laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at you. the cocky, tactical mastermind facade was completely gone, replaced by that raw, honest vulnerability that always made your heart do backflips.

“so,” he started, his voice a little rough, a little nervous. “we’re terrible spies.”

“abysmal,” you agreed, stepping closer, wrapping your arms around his waist. “the worst in history.”

keonho smiled, his hands coming up to cradle your face, his thumbs gently brushing over your cheekbones. he stared into your eyes, his gaze so intense and steady that it felt like he was looking straight into your soul.

“i wanted to do this right,” he whispered, his breath warm against your forehead. “no more operations. no more schemes. no more using them as an excuse… to be near you.” he took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling against yours. for a guy who always had a sarcastic comeback ready, he suddenly looked completely struck dumb by how much he cared about you. “even though we’ve been… whatever this is… for the last few weeks,” keonho murmured, his voice dropping into something soft that made your knees instantly melt. “i never actually asked you. properly.”

he leaned down a fraction, his dark eyes searching yours with a quiet, desperate hope.

“yn. will you be my girlfriend? for real. no secrets, no undercover hangouts. just… you and me.”

you smiled, the absolute certainty of the moment washing over you like a warm wave. you reached up, tangling your fingers in the hair at the back of his neck, pulling him down to your level.

“oh, keonho,” you whispered right against his lips. “i thought you’d never ask.”

© hyuneskkami ❦