Martini's_Wish

TWO

You were in the kitchen that day, insisting on helping James make milkshakes. Though, to be honest, “helping” wasn’t really what you were doing. You were switching the strawberry milkshake—the one meant for you—with something that had just a bit more in it.

Right as you slid the glasses across the counter, your gaze lifted—and there he was again. Martin. Watching.

He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

You froze for a second before flashing him an awkward smile and silently switching the drinks back, pretending like nothing ever happened.

Of course, he saw everything. He always did.

THREE

“Go do it!” was all Seonghyeon and Keonho had said before shoving you straight into Juhoon’s and James’ room. Apparently, Juhoon had pictures—of the three of you “committing crimes,” or at least that’s what he believed they were. Juhoon was asleep, which made this the perfect time to execute the plan.

You tiptoed into the room, the air quieter and darker than the others. Your fingers reached for his phone on the desk, the soft glow of the screen lighting up your face as you sneakily tilted it toward Juhoon, hoping the face ID would recognize him.

But instead,

You froze.

It wasn’t Juhoon’s face staring back. It was Martin’s.

Wide awake. Lying beside Juhoon. Glaring at you.

You slowly, very slowly, set the phone back down, your pulse quickening. How the hell was he everywhere?

FOUR

You were in the kitchen later that night, binging on chocolates like your life depended on it. One slipped from your hand, falling onto the counter—and without hesitation, you popped it right into your mouth.

That’s when you heard it.

A cough.

Your body went stiff. You turned—and of course, Martin.

Standing there, glass of water in hand, giving you that judgmental stare that made you want to disappear into the tiles.

He didn’t even say anything. He just looked at you.

Caught in 4K, as the youngest acting like she hadn’t eaten in days.

Your cheeks burned, and without a word, you placed the remaining chocolates back on the counter, suddenly losing all appetite. Because if there’s one thing worse than getting caught—it’s knowing Martin could and would tell everyone.

FIVE

You had just walked out of the introverts’ room—both James and Juhoon were gone—and James’ two hoodies were slung over your arms. You were grinning to yourself, victorious, already planning to show off your “successful mission.”

But then, of course, there he was.

Martin.

Standing by the kitchen counter, sipping his coffee, eyes locked right on you like he’d been waiting to catch you red-handed. Again.

“I was just doing laundry for James…” you trailed off awkwardly, voice weak, trying to play it off as casual as possible.

Martin just stared for a moment before giving a slow nod—one that said “sure, whatever you say” more than actual belief. He took another sip of his tea, gaze still on you as you disappeared into the laundry area, pretending to “wash” the hoodies.

Even though both of you knew that was definitely not your plan.

SIX

Now don’t get it wrong—you were usually really active. Like, bounce-off-the-walls, can’t-sit-still type of active. (Please, just go with the lie.) But that particular day? You just wanted to sleep. Like, dead-to-the-world kind of sleep.

So, naturally, you sent a text: “I’m sick, can’t join today.”

You even added a few sad emojis for effect.

But Martin, being Martin, didn’t even bother knocking. He just walked right in—only to find you dipping the thermometer into the hot coffee cup sitting on your nightstand.

The coffee that James had sweetly brought you out of worry.

You froze, caught mid-act.

Martin just sighed, rubbing his temples like he was too tired to even scold you. Then he dragged you—literally dragged you—back to practice while you whined the whole way, no amount of pleading managing to change his mind.

SEVEN

And then came the incident you could never forget.

Your bag was full of your secret stash of rare snacks—imported, limited edition, the good stuff—and you were carefully burying them one by one. You only ever did this when you were completely sure no one was around.

Except… you’d forgotten to close the door.

When you turned around, Martin was there again. Leaning against the doorframe. Watching you commit yet another “crime.”

You almost screamed. Instead, you panicked and threw one packet at him.

He caught it—too easily—grinned, and walked away without saying a word.

You exhaled in relief, slumping against your bed.

For now, at least, the bribe would keep him quiet.

Even though, once again, he’d caught you in 4K.