The Bibliothèque

MINHO – SAGE GREEN

never chained with the thought of being grounded, it's a freeing green of a ripe nature whose leaves have settled into a duller tone of bright greens, the feeling of being in the midst of change that does not hurry you, that does not overwhelm you. a little bland, but the sense of mundane and every day a source of comfort. ordinary enough to be imagined, but with its streaks of uniqueness making it hard to pin down on a palette; the colour so widely present around us, it's easy to become a part of it and blend into it. the sprigs of tiny life amidst rubble and grey, the fragrance of petrichor, the blades of grass tickling your toes. makes you tipsy enough to run through fields, to laugh along with the wind, to inhale the sunlight filtering through curtains of leaves. the green of stalks and stems, of old victorian wallpapers now faded, of four leafed clovers, of cloth bound books and sliced cucumbers. the green that is so ever present without its own loudness, a constant of life, of growing old slowly and gracefully.

CHANGBIN – VANILLA

what a simple soul. there’s a dependable flavour to it. the colour of fuzzy knit sweaters, soft socks cladding your feet. the sweet, syrupy vanilla, butter smooth and cream moustaches on your upper lips. the feeling of sand slipping through your toes, washed away to a place you know will be kind to it. mulled wine and cinnamon rolls, warmth that is comfortable even in the summers, aged ivory cool against your skin. the tanginess of sparkling champagne on your tongue like little bursts of fireworks. walking on cobbled streets with no destination, looking around and drinking in what the world has to offer wherever you are. the colour of skin – every shade, every texture, every hue; the feeling of belongingness in a world of so many colours. finding a comfort that makes you cry, a small reassurance of the beauty of lacking in life. adoring the very act of adoration, of love letters you wrote when you were younger. the acceptance of what you have and what you don’t and the art of making peace with it. the simplicity of finding joy in the most mundane. 

HYUNJIN – CINAMMON

there’s an underlying bitterness to this colour; a gentle nudge akin to a soft brew of coffee on mornings that are heavy on your shoulders. a roughness like the bark of trees, of old wounds scabbing, a shade darker than your skin. of a healing only you know about, only you think about laying on a blanket of fallen, dried up leaves you take home and laminate for safekeeping. the leather strap of an old watch from your mother, the old soul trapped in a young body; a heart that sings to the vintage tunes from an old gramophone. the crackling of wood and stories from the mountains. it's toeing the line of reality and fantasy and finding a place in between that can hold your entirety. a faint nostalgia without a source, following you wherever you go, making you romanticise the world as you see it. sitting alone amidst people, quietly admiring the art of existing, invisible with a gentle presence. finding comfort in the dullness of its colour, a peculiar commonality in its commonness.

JISUNG – COTTON CANDY

it’s everywhere; you look up and it looks down on you with a gentle smile. it holds you in itself, on soft clouds of dreams that you are allowed to indulge in. it’s the colour of water, the tiles beneath, the sky above reflected, it’s the taste of water on a hot summer day. it’s dipping your toes in cotton candy and the glimmer of water on playful ripples. it’s the luck you tuck into your pocket or string around your neck on a chain, nestled close to your heart where you can feel it glowing warm across your skin. it’s seeing things not at face value. it’s the reminder to treat yourself with kindness, to be able to feel sad and swim in it, to be able to pick yourself up after and dry off with soft cotton towels. it’s to be able to feel so deeply and let it drown you, submerge you, cling to you like a second skin and yet, come up brave after the storm passes. it’s a homage to be kind to your feelings because they are precious.

FELIX – SUN DRIED HONEY

a mouthful of sunlight which melts on your tongue. there’s a field of glitter and you lay in it, basking under the sun that kisses your skin and makes it glimmer. sweet, syrupy honey, a bath of milk and tamarind face paint. this yellow, it shines and glows but it never hurts the eye. this yellow, it’s the spot of glazed light on a wooden floor, soothing your cold skin with its warm fingers. stained glass of forgotten chapels, patching the ground with an auburn glow, pierced through with its radiance. candied pineapples, sweet and sticky, the summer of what was and wasn’t. letters to yourself bundled with a twine of string, hidden carefully under your bed. the first mango of the season, juices sliding down your fingers; the childlike happiness of licking it up and smiling through stained teeth. running free through fields, no streets exist nor paths, kites strung up in the sky like colourful birds. child of stars, the longingness to be loved. laughter of faeries, soul untethered. a reminder that the sun always comes up, the winds always whisper, the world still blooms and the birds still chirp. you can be beautiful and whole.

SEUNGMIN – SALT OF SEA

sea salt on your lips, the tumbling of water without an end at a distance. it’s dark but bright, a soul so calming. the chimes of wind bells and the whoosh of loud winds. the turbulent swirls of the starry night. this blue, so dark, it offers home, it offers you peace and swallows you up. swallow you up if you want it to when the days are hard and bleak. a port for the quenched warrior, a boat for the restless sailor. vulnerability is weakness but feeling is not. it lets you weep into the night, soaking itself in your tears and till the sun comes up it's your silent companion; the wordless sheep who watches all night and leaves when you stop. your deepest secrets written in a little black book, the mindless register of the streets below your high tower, the navy of the night swallowing everything but the bright yellow spot that is your window. for it sheathes and protects and takes spears for you, it loves and adores from an arm apart, it walks behind you in shadowless nights; an unspeakable contract of safety and comfort.

JEONGIN – BERRY

Nevertheless, you love Mina (and your sister too, you suppose), so when Mina insists that you come to her school’s Halloween parade, you take a day off work and put on a pair of cheap cat ears to be the Jiji to her Kiki. Ever since she watched the movie in the summer, Mina has been insisting that she dress up as Kiki for Halloween. Her mom will be Bakery Lady (Osono), her dad Bakery Man (Fukuo), and you Jiji. You told her that you could be Cool Artist Girl (Ursula), but she insisted you be her cat since she couldn’t bring Sesame to school with her. 

Not that you would have let her, but you did give her several pictures of Sesame to show her classmates and a stuffed cat to complete her costume.

You show up a few minutes before the scheduled parade begins and stand with your sister on the unusually large schoolyard. Vaguely spooky music plays from hidden speakers as parents in nice sweaters and in various different costumes mingle around. You suddenly feel inadequate in simple all-black clothes. Sure, you drew some whiskers, but you don’t even have a tail or anything. If this is what being a PTA parent in a private school is like, you don’t want it. Regular PTA parents are already a handful. If not for her job, you can definitely see Nari as a PTA mom.

She enrolled Mina in a private early education academy for its curriculum, which is kind of understandable but it’s kindergarten. Well, they also provide two years of pre-school, but it’s a tad bit overboard in your eyes. You and Nari went to public ones, and you both turned out mostly fine.

“Morning,” Felix greets. He looks the part of a baker but certainly not of Fukuo, who is usually quiet and stoic; Felix is all smiles, even at 8:30 AM. He holds out his basket, which is only partially a prop. “Bread?”

“Thanks.” You take a small roll from the basket and marvel for the umpteenth time about how lucky Nari is. Weekly fresh-baked bread for breakfast and delicious brownies for dessert—you can only dream. “How was Mina this morning? She told me last night that she was gonna wake up early to practice being Kiki.”

“She woke me up at six,” Nari replies after a healthy sip of coffee. She’s finally taken to drinking black after spending all of her college years maintaining that barely caffeinated milkshakes were enough to sustain her. “Could have asked her other parent who was already in the kitchen, but she wanted me to tie her ribbon. Guess what Mr. Han’s dressed as? Her teacher,” she clarifies after seeing your blank face.

“Also Kiki?”

“No, but still Studio Ghibli. I think all the teachers agreed to do a Ghibli theme.”

You think back to everything you made Mina watch in August. “Howl?”

“No, that’s Mr. Hwang from the class next door. I think Mr. Yang’s going as his Sophie.”

“You’re telling me all this like I know who all of these people are.”

She sighs and looks over at Felix with an expression that undoubtedly says, “Can you believe her?” “He’s Turnip-Head. He even stuck his arms out like him when Mina recognized him. He’s so funny,” she muses while you privately think to yourself that Nari needs to get her sense of humor reevaluated after having kids. After a pause, she adds, “He’s cute too.”

“If you wanna cheat on Felix, you could at least do it when he’s not around.”

On the other side of Nari, Felix laughs. 

Nari elbows you like she’s seven again and has discovered how much fun she has elbowing people. “Did you suddenly get a date in the last twelve hours we’ve talked? You haven’t dated anyone in like, I don’t know, forever.”

By “forever,” she means a year. After that last fiasco, you’re never trying online dating—and maybe regular dating—ever again. “I’m not hitting on my niece’s teacher. That sounds a little problematic.”

“So if he wasn’t, you’d be interested? What if I introduced you as my former roommate? Or Felix’s friend? You two are friends, right? Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Annoying Little Sisters never grow out of their questions, do they?

Fortunately, lines of children are being led out to the schoolyard by their accompanying teachers. Admittedly, they do look adorable as little princesses, little superheroes, little prospective career choices. One kid is dressed as a carrot, which makes you chuckle and then makes you wonder if you also need to reevaluate your humor. 

“There’s Mina!” Felix exclaims, pointing out a distinctive red bow in the sea of tiaras and top hats. A lot of kids want to be magicians apparently.

Following Turnip-Head the teacher into the yard, Mina is first in line. Slung across her shoulder is a brown satchel with a stuffed kitten poking its head out to see the world. Like her dad, she’s all smiles. When she finds her parents and you in the distance, she waves her arms back and forth. 

“Hold this,” Nari says to you as she hands you her coffee. She pulls out her phone from her dress pocket and begins snapping pictures of her daughter. “Gosh, she’s adorable. So, what do you think of Mr. Han now that you’ve seen him?”

He is good-looking, you’ll give Nari that. To be fair, it’s not like anyone would disagree with that assessment. “Is that all you can think about during this very important school function?”

“You’re talking to the person who was planning how to ask me out during a midterm,” Felix interjects. He wraps an arm around his wife’s shoulders and looks at her with so much affection, you have to tear your eyes away. “Of course that’s all she can think about. If you don’t want to risk it with Mr. Han, I can set you up with my friend. Chan hasn’t been on a date in years.”

“Not you too,” you groan. Just for revenge’s sake, you take a long drink of Nari’s coffee. You don’t know how you’re supposed to last another hour if this is what your company’s like. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

Egged on by his annoying wife, Felix only grins at your exasperation before gasping at something. “Mr. Lee’s Kiki!”

Mr. Lee, you learn, is not Felix’s long-lost relative, but Mina’s pre-school teacher last year. You weren’t invited to the parade then, so you don’t know what his Cruella de Vil costume looked like exactly, but from Felix’s report, his fur coat was truly magnificent. All the kids wanted to touch it. 

When Mr. Lee passes by with his class, he does a double-take at you and your family. Nari greets him enthusiastically, Felix offers his bread basket half-jokingly, and you wave hello awkwardly. Mr. Lee takes a roll and exchanges compliments with Nari and Felix for a while. He looks at you curiously after you don’t say a word, so you introduce yourself first as Jiji and then your actual self.

“Mina’s my niece,” you add before Nari can make up some elaborate lie. “Nice costume.”

You’re not saying that to be polite; it really is a nice costume. He has a birdcage with a stuffed cat in one hand, and an appropriate witch broom in the other. Maybe you should have lent Mina your broom after all.

“Yeah, you too. I gotta go, but we should get a picture later. I didn’t think anyone would be Osono or Fukuo,” he says, nodding at Nari and Felix. “It was great seeing you again.”

After he leaves, twenty-something children following him like ducklings to a mother duck, Nari nudges you with her elbow. “What about him?” she whispers.

You whisper back, “I’m gonna kill you.”

After a lifetime of death threats, she’s unfazed. “He’s cute, and you already have some rapport with him. We could both be Lees.”

“This coffee is mine.”

“Have it. I hate black.”

The drink doesn’t taste as good anymore, but you make a big show of draining the last dregs of it anyway. Meanwhile, Nari prattles on about how she doesn’t want you to die sad and lonely, which is really not the insult she thinks it is. Besides, you refuse to take romantic advice from someone who failed their midterm over a date.

Fortunately, before you seriously consider committing a felony, Mina’s class comes up the designated path. Killing your sister? Totally fine. Killing your sister in front of her daughter? Traumatic for Mina and therefore, not fine.

Mina tugs on the sleeve of Mr. Han’s black coat and points directly at you. If Grandma were here, she would have slapped Mina’s hand down for being rude. “See?” she loudly says. “I told you I have a real Jiji!”

Again, you awkwardly wave hello to yet another stranger Nari is trying to set you up with.

“Hi, Mina,” you say. Then because her classmates are staring at you like a zoo animal, “Hi, kids. Happy Halloween.”

A few of them are polite and shout in response, “Happy Halloween!” Most of them are disappointed and say with palpable dejection, “You’re not a real cat.” 

Relatable.

Mr. Han at least has the decency to doff his top hat to you. “It’s nice to meet you, Jiji.”

You can feel Nari vibrating with excitement at this throwaway exchange. The parade continues, and you do an excellent job of ignoring your conniving sister’s attempts at conversation. All roads will lead to either Mr. Han or Mr. Lee. Mr. Lee seems to be the frontrunner by the sole virtue of sharing the same surname as Felix. 

“When is this over again?” you ask Felix after Nari steers your passing comment about how loud the music is to how considerate the teachers at this school are to their students. He seems more receptive to talk about something other than your love life.

“Technically, 9:30. They went overtime last year, but no one really cared since it bled into the party.”

“There’s a party?” Maybe public school did suck after all.

“You’re staying for it, right? It’s mostly for the kids, but there’s snacks and candy.”

“I guess. I promised Mina I would stay until the end, but that was before I knew there was a party.”

“It’s just an hour or so. Besides, you need to at least get a picture with Mr. Lee before you go. If only you came as Tombo!” Nari says, starry-eyed. Whether it’s the caffeine or her having too much fun, you don’t know. “Stop glaring at me.”

You keep your glare on until the parade loops back around one more time before officially ending. The students are lined up by class in the center, and hordes of parents rush to get pictures of their children and their friends. Feeling every bit like an involved adult, you join Nari and Felix in the flood.

You mill around the edges for a few seconds before Mina drags you into her group of friends so you can answer questions about Sesame. You allow it because one, you love Mina enough to not play the part of Irritated Adult and two, you love talking about Sesame, the most precious creature in all of existence. In the meantime, Mina shows every possible person her favorite photo of Sesame lying on his back in the sun. You gently correct her when she declares that Sesame is her cat. In the spitting image of her mother, she vehemently denies it.

In the middle of explaining how Sesame’s ears twitch, Mr. Han squats down next to you and glances at Mina’s picture. “So this is the real Jiji?”

“Yeah. He’s adorable, isn’t he?” 

You turn back to the rapt children around you, prepared to continue your lecture. However, before you can do so, Felix gathers all of Mina’s circle for a group photo. Scheming little rat—he and Nari are one and the same, no matter how good his brownies are.

You stand up, and Mr. Han follows. 

“I like your pipe,” you say after some silence. It’s probably only been a second, but that’s already a second too long. “I imagine it’s not real?”

He shakes his head, amused for seemingly no reason. “Definitely not. The kids ‘ooh-ed’ me when they saw it, and I thought they were gonna try to send me to the principal’s office.”

“That’d be pretty embarrassing. They would never let you live it down. I told off my sister in front of Mina once, and Mina brings it up all the time when she gets in trouble.”

He’s one of those people who throws his head back when laughing. It’s a miracle that his hat doesn’t fly off. “Tell me about it. I forgot the word ‘milk’ and called it ‘cow water,’ and every time I ask them what they had for lunch, at least one of them tells me they drank cow water.”

“Kids are so great.”

He sighs fondly. “They really are. Hey, you mind if I get a picture with you and your family later? All the teachers did a Ghibli theme and since you dressed up according to the theme…”

“Yeah, no problem.” With just a twinge of cynicism, you say, “It’s all Nari’s been talking about.”

As if on cue, Nari bounds over and informs you that there’s a Ghibli group photo happening. Some of the teachers, namely Mr. Hwang as Howl and Ms. Kim as No-Face, have already gathered together. The three of you head to the spot, taking Mina along and picking up a boy in a Totoro hoodie. Mina and Totoro stand in the front center. The Kiki’s Delivery Service franchise kneels around them, and under the guise of unity, you and Mr. Lee wind up next to each other through the graces of Nari.

While the other members get sorted into perfection, Mina takes the opportunity to tell Mr. Lee about Sesame. She gives him one of her many pictures, and he carefully takes it, studying a sleeping Sesame with lofty consideration.

“You can put it in the Cat Hall of Fame,” she proudly says. “Next to Dori.”

“When did you get a cat?” he asks.

“He’s mine,” you interrupt, trying your best to hide your smirk when you notice Mina pouting that she couldn’t claim Sesame as hers. “I adopted him seven months ago, if you’re curious.”

“First time cat parent?”

“Yeah, but it’s still easier than babysitting the fussy three-year-old your sister dropped off with no warning.” You say the last part extra loud for Nari and receive a light kick to your tailbone. “Do you have any? Cats, I mean.”

His whole face lights up. “I’ve got three! Soonie, Doongie, and Dori. They’ve been with me for years. I’ve got pictures of them in my classroom. You remember, don’t you, Mina?”

Mina nods her head vigorously. “I like Dori the best.”

He indulges her with a laugh. “Feel free to come by my classroom afterwards,” he says to you. He waves the glossy photo, making it ripple. “I’m gonna add Sesame to our Cat Hall of Fame.”

Nari kicks you again, probably to literally kick you in the right direction. It’s not like you needed it. Forget Mr. Lee’s face—cat pictures are the best lure for you. You turn around with a ready scowl, but the photographer, one of the many moms around, directs everyone to smile at the camera. 

You have no idea how it turns out, but it doesn’t matter because the pictures on the Cat Hall of Fame are infinitely better. As per Mina’s request, Sesame is placed right beside one of Dori. And as per Mina’s other request, you return to Mr. Han’s classroom immediately after to see if you can guess which paper ghost she decorated. It’s not a lie; it’s the perfect excuse because goodness gracious, pre-schoolers will cry at the drop of a hat. Or in this case, about the drop of a hat. To be fair, you likely would have done the same if your homemade witch hat was also dunked into a bowl of punch by another kid. 

Nari is disappointed by your arrival but recovers seconds later. She grabs your arm conspiratorially. “Teachers are off-limits to you,” she whispers, “but what about parents? Mr. Kim Seungmin, single dad to Seoyun, who is one of Mina’s tablemates. Felix is talking to him right now.”

At this point, you shouldn’t expect anything different. Mr. Kim Seungmin is also good-looking, especially in a plaid overcoat reminiscent of Sherlock Holmes. But really.

“I’m not gonna use my niece’s school as a dating app,” you hiss.

“But look at all the possibilities! And c’mon, Felix and I are paying for it. You might as well. If you talk to Seungmin, I won’t accidentally leave your number on Mr. Han’s desk.”

“I’m the emergency contact. He already has it. Have you given up on Mr. Lee already?” you tease, and that’s the wrong choice because Nari is now pulling you along to Mina’s table.

“If you like him so much, I can leave at his desk instead. I’ll explicitly mention a date.”

“I hate you.”

She pushes you forward into Mr. Kim's line of sight, and you quickly plaster on a happy face while she makes introductions. Seungmin holds out his hand for you to shake, and you note that his fingernails are painted a shocking pink, no doubt by his daughter who has a matching shade that compliments her princess dress. You absolutely loathe your sister, but she is right in that the school is a good source of dating material.

a ping sounds in the background, muffled still in your ears and you hear minho moving about before his voice breaks you out of your semi daze.

"jisung's gonna be here in a while with your IDs and some clothes. we can take the first train to the city tomorrow morning."

you hum at him from your spot, feeling relaxation seep into your tensed muscles and eyes drooping at the thought of a good nap after all the running you had done earlier.

turning over to your side you catch minho already staring at you through hooded eyes, his face inscrutable and devoid of any sign of emotions.

"what is it?" propping your elbow on the bed, you cup your face in your hands, fixing a questioning gaze on him.

"why'd you run away?"

you raise an eyebrow, tilting your head in consideration of the enquiry.

"i thought you said you wouldn't ask me any questions,"

"that was before i knew i'd have to forge a new identity for you and literally help you escape the city."

fair enough, but while you were at it, you didn't want to indulge in too much detail.

"just running away from my family," you shrug nonchalantly, expecting that he would leave it at that.

"oh, so are you those spoiled types who's trying to run away from their rich oppressive families, or the one who's getting abused by them?"

scoffing at the blunt assumptions and the former one hitting home, you can't help but feel a pinch of irritation at the way he put it. you were not spoilt, just oppressed by your parents! but when he words it like that, it makes you seem like you ran away because you couldn't handle a bit of criticism.

"you seem awfully sassy for someone who steals other people's hard earned money," you bite back vehemently, but it only elicits a half hearted chuckle from him.

"hard earned money? tell me, exactly how much honest money does your father have? or better still, how many wads of bills do you have in there," he points his chin towards your satchel, "that you can say wasn't stolen by your father in the first place itself from the people who actually worked for it?"

your cheeks flush in embarrassment. a part of you had always known that there was more to where your family's wealth came from, but you've never bothered yourself with it up until now, when you stole hard cash and ran away in the middle of the night.

“shut up, you’re no saint.”

it was a lame comeback, all but mumbled spitefully but you felt the need to retort and have the last say in the matter.

“i never said i was (y/n), and i don’t intend on being one either. people think that’s what i am, the modern robin hood, but i’m far from that. and its your kind that piss me off the most, that puts me in this position of stealing and giving people their money back.”

minho had arisen from his chair, walking towards you and grabbing the towel resting on the table.

“i’m not a good guy darling, i’m only helping you because of that,” he tilts his head towards your rucksack, and you know too well he meant the satchel of money nestled inside it. you gulp at his words, staring at him from where you lay, frozen and unmoving as he bent down and gently wiped your forehead with the towel. his fingers grazed across your forehead briefly, leaving a tingling sensation across your skin that given the heat could be the only reason for the goosebumps on your hand.

“so (y/n),” he smiles at you sweetly, his face but mere inches away from yours as he held your gaze coolly, “let’s make a deal, yeah?”

“what deal?” your voice is soft, a whispered breath you were too afraid to share with him because all of a sudden, you felt shivers all over your body. you might have underestimated him.

“you help me out, and i promise you won’t ever have to worry about seeing your parents ever again.”

“help you how? i barely know what i’m doing.”

at this he laughs, pleasant ringing undertone and a childlike innocence at the way his lips spread apart in a wide grin,

“you actually admitted that, cute.”

and now suddenly it was too hot again.

“don’t worry (l/n) (y/n), i won’t ask you to risk your life for me, it’s nothing you’re not capable of; in fact, i’m sure you were meant for this life.”

this life? it was funny how being announced as a part of this so called ‘other’ life didn’t outright scare you, rather an exhilaration spread through your body like wildfire. and it was even more baffling at how easily you accepted it when he said them. must be the charms of being a conman.

lifting yourself to sit up, minho’s eyes still latched onto yours and following inquisitively, you gaze at him with an unreadable expression.

“you promise i can get away from all that’s behind me?”

a moment passes between the two of you, the loud whirring of the fan as it oscillated and blew strands of your hair across your face caters to the sudden loud silence enveloping you both. you feel another trail of sweat tracing the back of your neck and fiddle on the bed when he doesn’t reply.

lithely, like a feathery touch, pulling away the stray hair and tucking them behind your ears, his fingers brush against your cheek this time where they rest for a while without pulling back.

“We are not buying a new mop Changbin we have one at home!” Seungmin muttered, pulling from the stick-end.

“The one at home is battered Seungmin we have to get a new one!” Changbin whined from the other end, pulling with equal strength even though it was apparent who was winning by a huge margin.

Seungmin was incredibly annoyed, and by a miracle, he was struck with a wonderful idea.

Oh, Changbin was truly at the wrong end of the stick and he was going to show it.

As the tug-of-war between them continued at a neverending pace, when Seungmin was supposed to pull at his end, he pushed instead.

Resulting in Changbin getting a faceful of dirty grocery store mop.

Changbin sputtered wildly as he let go of his end of the mop in panic, scrubbing his face down manically as Seungmin chuckled in delight, moving away to store the mop in its original place, dragging away their shopping cart along with him.

Enraged, Changbin finally stopped dragging his fingers through his face as he watched Seungmin disappear at the other end of the aisle, unaware that he had already dragged their cart with him, resulting in Changbin unconsciously stealing your cart.

You were still vibing at the other end, blissfully unaware.

Barely five minutes later, Minho appeared over your shoulder, aggressively shaking you to get your attention.

“Yes, dear roommate are we ready to leave yet?” You raised your eyebrows as he stood, simply confused.

“We would if you would tell me where our shopping cart is, dear vibing roommate?” He questioned, raising his eyebrows equally comically.

“What do you mean? It's right oh-”

The shopping cart was definitely not there.

“Well shit, I sure hope the racks you took from aren't empty just yet.” You smiled apologetically, scanning the area to see if the cart had simply rolled away by accident.

“I sure hope you don't get beaten away by a spatula today.” Minho smiled, but instead of providing you with any sort of warmth or comfort, it simply freaked you out even more.

“Look at you, promoting domestic violence over a shopping cart,”

“Look at you, being irresponsible,”

“Excuse me! I was simply vibing!”

“Oh excuse me! I was simply buying groceries to treat you for dinner as a celebration of moving into my new dorm,”

“Okay so like… can we actually search for the cart now?” You stopped your bickering abruptly, noting that if you didn't find your original cart, you'd have to go through the waiting progress all over again.

“You look around the aisles to see if someone accidentally adopted it as their own, I'll go check with the staff.” Minho rolled his eyes, walking away towards the other end of the superstore where you assumed the help desk was.

“Yes sir!” You mock-saluted loudly, gaining a few stares.

Fortunately, you didn't have to search around at all because as soon as you tuned into the squabble happening two aisles over, you'd guessed you'd already found the source of their problems.

“That is not our cart Changbin how many times do I have to repeat it!” A honey-like voice droned, evidently annoyed.

“What do you mean it's not? It literally has all the items you put in like ten minutes ago?” A confused voice fought back.

“You think I'd get a whole two tubs of cream cheese?! None of us even eat cream cheese you dumbass!”

“Jeez you're so pissed over cream cheese I'll just go put it back you maniac!” One of them stomped off, hands full with two tubs of cream cheese.

Fuck them man the cream cheese was yours and you were going to steal it back.

“Aye pricks hand me back my shopping cart!” You stomped into the aisle, determined to get your cart back before any of your other items were replaced back into their shelves.

You were met with a mop end to your face.

“Bitch-”

“Sorry!” Seungmin squeaked, horrified.

“You better be,” You muttered angrily, pushing down the mop as you came face to face with the culprit of the theft.

You were met with a pair of innocent doe eyes, piercing right through your soft spot and melting you into a puddle.

“Hi,” He squeaked and waved, abandoning the mop.

“Uh… hello, may I have my cart back?” You suddenly felt awkward… way too awkward.

“Yeah sure,” Seungmin affirmed, pushing the duplicate cart towards you.

“Seungmin I'm buying more protein powder-” Changbin was cut off by the weird stand-off he just walked into.

Seungmin had pushed the cart way too hard. Shit.

One of the wheels dug right into your foot.

You screamed.

Seungmin squeaked.

Changbin blanched.

You staggered back and crashed onto a firm chest.

Your lips were on Changbin's.

Welp, there's nothing worse right?

“Why is my new roommate hooking up with my old roommate in the middle of a grocery store?” Minho's voice echoed through the aisle.

The End.

PHASE 1

“You sure this isn’t just another one of your three-day crushes?”

“Yes!” Mingyu whines, looking up from the table he’s been wiping down with a damp rag. “It’s been more than a week and the last time she came in we actually had a conversation! And at least this time I know her name!”

“That’s a start,” Wonwoo agrees, “what did you guys talk about?”

Mingyu’s eyes practically shine when he whirls around to face his best friend. “She told me she moved out of her university dorms to live with a roommate, and that she started coming here because it’s on the way to the bus stop.”

“The one a few blocks down?”

“I think so?” Mingyu hums as he secures his apron around his waist, ready to start another busy shift. Despite the early hour, on a Monday no less, he finds himself looking forward to the morning rush, because even seeing you for just a few minutes brings the brightest of smiles to his face.

Wonwoo observes quietly as his friend giddily takes his place behind the counter. Sure, Mingyu’s had countless crushes on customers in the past, but he’s never seen him as smitten for one as you. He’s refilling the straw holder when Mingyu speaks again.

“I’m gonna do it.”

Wonwoo pushes his glasses further up his nose bridge. “Do what?”

“Ask Y/N out,” Mingyu says like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “For coffee or something, so we can get to know each other.”

“You’re gonna ask her out for coffee… when you’re already working at the café she goes to?”

Huh, he has a point. “Then… I’ll let her pick! Yeah, that’s it!” He then falls silent for several beats before his voice comes out slightly shaky. “You don’t think someone would suggest rock-climbing or bungee-jumping for the first date… right?”

Wonwoo snorts. “Probably not. But I’d focus on asking her out for now if I were you.”

“Pft, it’ll be easy.”

Spoiler alert—it’s not. Because the moment you walk up to the counter with your usual cheery smile, the short spiel Mingyu had come up with all but disappeared from his mind, and he’s once again reduced to a tongue-tied mess before you.

“Are you okay?” you ask, peering at him curiously after noticing his shifting, nervous gaze as he punches in your order.

“Y-Yeah! Everything’s fine!” Mingyu squeaks, gesturing for you to tap your card. “Don’t worry about me! Everything’s just fine!”

From the corner of his eye, he sees Wonwoo glance over at him, his expression wholly unimpressed as though to say “as if anyone’s gonna be convinced”.

“O…kay, well… thanks, Mingyu!” You don’t seem to be offended, perhaps just a little confused, by his odd behaviour as you take your receipt and begin moving aside for the next person in line, but it still has guilt and panic sinking deep into his gut like a ton of bricks.

“W-Wait!”

Your widened eyes blink owlishly at his sudden outburst. “Hm?”

Mingyu blushes, the rosy pink tint on his cheeks now rapidly spreading to his ears. “I—I was j-just wondering if… uh…if…”

“If…?”

“If you also wanted a blueberry muffin, they’re fresh out of the oven,” Mingyu finishes lacklusterly, already mentally slapping himself.

“Oh! Sure!”

And as he watches you tap your card against the reader once again for your added purchase, the disappointed sagging of his shoulders having gone unnoticed, he wonders what had deluded him into thinking this would be anything near easy.

PHASE 2

“You’re going to what?”

Pointedly ignoring the disbelieving look Wonwoo sends him, Mingyu ushers him aside as he takes your cup and the milk frothing pitcher from him.

“I’m doing the latte art,” he finally responds before adding as an afterthought, “only for Y/N’s though, I don’t think I’m capable of doing more.”

“Yeah, because there’s a reason why Seungcheol put me in charge of the hot lattes for our shifts.”

He’d really rather not be reminded of the questionable foam design he made that led to such a decision from their supervisor. “No, it’s because I want to channel all my energy into just her cup.”

“Right…” Wonwoo says skeptically, but relents and steps aside anyway because he’s a good friend and he genuinely wants to see Mingyu’s love life thrive. But he also doesn’t want to witness the absolute fiasco that may very well likely result from Mingyu being let anywhere near the milk frother. Having hot milk dripping from every surface of their workspace isn’t the most ideal reoccurrence, and this time Wonwoo would like to be as far away from the splash zone as possible.

Mingyu’s tongue pokes out from between his lips, deep in concentration as he begins pouring the milk into your cup. So far so good, he mentally pats himself on the back. Maybe this will prove to Seungcheol that he deserves a second chance with the latte art.

A loud clatter resounds through the café, startling him. His hand jolts, hot milk missing the rim of the cup and splattering inches away from his feet. Mingyu cranes his neck in the direction of the sound just in time to see a customer nearby picking up their fork from the ground with a sheepish smile, cheeks tinged red as their friend muffles their giggles behind a gloved hand.

Huffing, Mingyu turns back to your latte to find the design ruined, what used to be a heart now split down the middle. Definitely not a very nice omen to give someone just a week before Valentine’s Day. What if you thought he was trying to curse you?

“You want me to do it for you?” Wonwoo asks sympathetically, gesturing for them to swap duties. With a heavy sigh, Mingyu agrees, taking his initial place back behind the cash register and plastering a smile on his face as the same customer comes up asking for another fork.

A pout subconsciously makes its way onto his face at the sight of your smile when Wonwoo brings you your latte. He can’t hear what you’re saying, but he’s guessing you’re marvelling over the leaf design his friend created.

Maybe next time.

PHASE 3

“Ta-da! It’s a coffee stencil!”

“Yes…” Wonwoo enunciates slowly, not knowing where this is going, “we have those in the back for special events—speaking of which, we need to grab the heart ones for the Valentine’s Day event starting tomorrow. Did you specifically buy that for this?”

“No!” Mingyu says, bringing the stencil closer to Wonwoo’s face, practically shoving it in the space between his eyes. “See? It says “YOU’RE CUTE”, I’m gonna use it when Y/N orders her latte and this time I’m bringing it over to her table and ask if she wants to hang out!”

His words are almost slurred from how excited he is, almost vibrating with excitement because his plan is so fool-proof; he knows he won’t mess up with the stencil and he knows you come in every other day to enjoy a piping hot cup of latte and a toasted croissant before heading to your late-morning lectures. There’s no way anyone could ruin it for him this time.

He can’t help himself from staring at the door awaiting your arrival during whatever short break he gets from taking orders and heating up baked goods, oblivious to the way Wonwoo occasionally sneaks glances at him with an amused smirk tugging at his lips. If the phrase ‘lovesick puppy’ were a person, it’d undoubtedly be Kim Mingyu.

Soon enough, your figure appears behind the frosted glass windows of the café, and while your entrance brings in a gust of frosty wind from the streets outside, he feels nothing but warmth in his chest as you walk up to the counter with a smile he’s come to associate with the summer sun. Sweet and dazzling.

“Hi, Y/N!” he says, a soft pink blush blooming across his cheeks, his fingers already hovering over your usual order on his screen, “hot vanilla latte with a toasted croissant?” His stencil—the one he bought just for you—sits on the counter right behind him, patiently waiting to be dusted in a layer of cocoa powder to create his little message.

You smile apologetically as you adjust the beanie on your head. It’s so you, he thinks, in a dreamy peach shade and topped with a fluffy white pom-pom.

“I’ll have to get both to-go today, I have to meet up with some groupmates for a project,” you explain, and Mingyu feels the blood drain from his face at your words. He can almost hear the shattering glass sound effect if this were a rom-com; the universe must be playing a prank on him.

It’s not even April Fool’s.

“O-Okay,” he falters, his arm suddenly weighing heavy as he inputs your order into the machine, “y-yeah, I can definitely do that.”

You smile gratefully. “You’re the best, Mingyu.”

He definitely doesn’t feel the best as he watches you leave with your breakfast, not even the encouraging pat on the shoulder from Wonwoo is helping much.

“Always next time, right?” his friend consoles.

He wonders how many more next times it will take.

PHASE 4

“I’m giving up,” Mingyu bemoans, slumping over the counter fifteen minutes to opening, “I’ll just accept that the universe doesn’t want me to find love.”

Wonwoo is hardly fazed by the sight of the giant man draped over the granite as he touches up the drawing of the limited edition drink—the red velvet latte—on a small chalkboard to put near the cash register.

“You’re being dramatic, Gyu,” he reasons, voice soft over the scribbling of chalk, “just try again today.”

“But it’s Valentine’s Day! Do you know how many happy couples I walked past on my way here? Plus, maybe she already has plans and isn’t coming in. I’ll never believe in love again.”

“Let’s just see how it goes, hm? Don’t give up hope just yet.”

By some miracle, Wonwoo’s right. You show up precisely thirty-seven minutes before their shift ends—yes, Mingyu counted.

“Any plans today?” he probes lightly, trying to sound casual when you order the red velvet latte and a scone.

“Nah, no boyfriend sadly,” you reveal with a quiet chuckle, “but it’s okay. It’s just any other day, right?”

Mingyu nods. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Wonwoo shoot him a knowing look. “Yeah, I guess... But if it makes you feel less alone, I don’t really have plans either,” he blurts.

“You? Really?” You look skeptical, lips curled disbelievingly.

He places a hand over his heart in mock hurt, thankful business is slow today so he has more time to talk to you without worrying about holding up the line. “What? You don’t trust me?”

“Well… I just didn’t expect someone like you to not have plans on Valentine’s Day.”

“And what kind of person am I?” He delights in how the question seems to fluster you, internally cooing at how adorable you are as you fumble over your words and take your receipt before claiming a table near the pick-up counter. Your reaction gives him a little hope that maybe, just maybe, you feel the same way as he does.

His confidence all but dissipates into thin air the second he finishes your latte. He used the same ‘YOU’RE CUTE’ stencil for the cocoa powder on top, and thankfully it turned out great if the appreciative whistle Wonwoo let out when he saw it was anything to go by. But the thought of bringing it over to you was daunting. What if you didn’t feel the same way? What if you don’t realise he used a different stencil specifically for you?

“What if I trip and accidentally spill it all over her?”

“You won’t,” Wonwoo groans, exasperated by his friend’s ridiculousness, “now hurry up and get this to her before she starts wondering why it’s taking so long.”

Mingyu’s eyes are pleading as he asks, “Can you do it for me?”

“What? The whole week you’ve been sulking because you couldn’t ask her out and now you want… me to do it for you?”

“I wasn’t sulking,” he mumbles, looking over his shoulder to find you happily sketching something on your iPad. “And well, now I’m chickening out. Maybe I’ll do it when she’s about to leave, it feels less awkward that way. Please?”

Wonwoo’s sharp eyes narrow behind his glasses, the gears turning in his head before sighing. “Fine.”

A new customer walks up to the cash register, tearing Mingyu’s attention away from your cup as he rushes to take their order. Wonwoo watches carefully from the corner of his eye, ensuring he Mingyu isn’t looking his way as he nabs a napkin and a pen from his pocket, having decided that his friend needs a little nudge in the right direction.

You look up from your screen with a smile when the other barista gingerly carries the steaming beverage and the pastry over to your table. He’s cute, but he’s not Mingyu. Grinning down at the rather fitting design on your latte, you lift the cup to take a sip only for your eyes to be immediately drawn to the napkin that sits on the saucer. You scan the message scrawled on it, hiding your smile behind the rim of your cup as you feign nonchalance, though pinpricks of heat are already beginning to form on your cheeks.

Still, you wait after you’ve finished your late breakfast until you spy Mingyu mopping up the floor behind the pick-up counter. He peers up through his eyelashes when you place your empty cup and plate in front of him.

“Thanks,” he says with a smile, “just leave it there, I’ll get it after I finish.”

Much to his confusion, you don’t walk away. Instead, you continue standing at the opposite side of the counter with an expectant glint in your eyes. Bewildered, he looks down at your empty cup, brows furrowing when he spots what appears to be writing on the napkin underneath it. Hesitantly, he picks it up.

Oh, he’s so going to kill Wonwoo.

my friend thinks ur rlly cute and wants to ask u out and it’s painful watching him struggle, pls put him (& me) out of his (our) misery if u like him 2, no pressure though

“I—I can explain,” Mingyu stammers, mouth opening and closing like a fish but words simply refuse to leave him. It’s cute, it reminds you of the goldfish you had as a kid, Turtle. You loved that funky orange dude.

And perhaps love truly is in the air, because you think you really like the barista standing before you too.

“Well, I did say I don’t have any plans today,” you muse, beaming at him, “and if my memory serves me right, so did you.”

“M-Me?” he echoes, jabbing a finger at his chest, “you wanna hang out… wi-with me?”

A beautiful chime travels to his ears as you giggle. “Yes, Mingyu, I’d love to hang out with you.”

“My shift ends in ten! W-We could go somewhere after that, if you want!”

You grin, cheeks round from smiling so widely as you toy with the lace hem of your sleeve. “Sounds like a date.”

Love Alarm. It's the newest and hottest app on the market from the moment it was released, and the only app to reveal the truth behind people's feelings.

Juyeon closes the tab, letting the catchy jingle of the ad end abruptly with a roll of his eyes. His lips are pulled into a frown and there's a tension in his body that wasn't there before, screaming annoyance. It doesn't take much for you to know exactly what your best friend is thinking.

You want to laugh at just how bothered he is by the app, but it puzzles you, for he's usually so relaxed and easygoing that even the way you constantly push his buttons wouldn't get a rise out of him. Now, however, the love alarm app somehow does that without even trying.

"You still can't believe people are buying into that, right?" A teasing lilt laces your voice.

"It's stupid," Juyeon glances at you up and down warily, as if he knows what you're thinking too. "Don't tell me you got it—"

"I downloaded it." Without missing a beat, you pull it up on your phone and shove it in front of his face. There's nothing interesting on the screen—only an empty circle glowing, awaiting for a heart to show up—but he lets out an irritated huff anyway. Your grin grows wider. "It's just for fun," you say, pulling it back when he waves you off. "Wouldn't it be so exciting to have the person you like ring your alarm?"

"What's the point of that? Why do you need an app to tell you something you should already know?"

"Well," you frown, his words making you pause, "if you put it like that, then maybe you're right. But it's kind of like... couple rings. You know, like a tangible symbol of your love or something. A sign that your love is requited."

Perhaps it's a feeble excuse but it doesn't take away your excitement; the app is merely meant to indicate one's true feelings towards another, and if anyone has a secret crush on you right now, surely this would be the solution to finding them so you wouldn't be single for life. All you have to do is be within ten meters of them, and your love alarm would ring. It's no surprise that the app is so popular when it's this easy to use—couples are using it to strengthen their relationships, and singles are hoping to find love with this simple ringing sound.

Besides, this would help you deal with the budding feelings you've kept hidden for the past month. With the app, it would be much easier to confess to your crush—you'd no longer have to drop a hint when you ask him to hang out, nor would you need to beg the barista to draw hearts on the lattes you buy for him. All that's needed is the ringing of his alarm and he'd know everything.

"But why do you need to use the alarm to confess to him?" Juyeon nudges you impatiently. "Why not tell him directly?" He blinks at you, awaiting an answer like he's interested in your love life all of a sudden. It's surprising as he's never shown any interest over the many years you've known each other, though you figure he's just trying to leech off some free entertainment this time.

Life gets boring when you don't have a crush, and his life is probably very boring if he's never had one from birth until now.

"It's much easier this way than actually talking to him. Trust me, I'd rather not have to awkwardly stutter through my confession just to have him awkwardly try to soften the blow of a rejection." You shake your head to get rid of that image. "Like, just have the alarm ring—or not ring—and get it over with."

"I guess," Juyeon shrugs, turning back to his laptop where he carefully mutes all of the love alarm ads this time before they can play.

He doesn't say anything after that, so you go back to texting your crush. You have to put in extra effort in planning your meet up with him since it'll be the day your love alarm finally rings.

When the day arrives, Juyeon gives you cautious glances and sends you more texts than he's probably sent in his life. His concern is excessive, albeit endearing, but what baffles you is why he would be so bothered by the love alarm, which you're sure is the root of his worry. You can't see the harm in it when it should be for fun, for some lighthearted laughs that take you back to the time of first crushes in middle school; definitely not what Juyeon is making it out to be.

The only downside you can think of is the gradual loss of confidence that comes with having your alarm stay silent for so long. You try not to let it bother you too much though, because that will change very soon when Sangyeon rings your alarm. It's easy to picture—the moment you step into his range, you'll be able to hear two alarms ringing simultaneously, and you'll pull out your phone to see the small heart floating around on your screen.

Today would be the day your crush on Sangyeon is finally revealed.

Lee Sangyeon, the senior with the dimpled smiles bright enough to rival the sun. The moment you'd stumbled upon his desk at the tutoring center, there was an undeniable connection—from the fun banter to his unique humour as he tried to make you laugh, to the way his eyes seemed to smile when he did. You'd nearly forgotten what a chore this linear algebra class was supposed to be. And with all the meet ups outside of the tutoring and between the lines of your casual texts, you were sure he became something more than just the hot senior you looked up to.

Initially, you hadn’t planned on acknowledging these feelings. It would be a risky and awkward thing to do when there are still a couple of months left until finals and you'd probably be seeing him for more tutoring sessions, but the existence of the love alarm changes things. It makes you want to test the waters and see if he feels the same, especially when there's little to no harm—confessions and rejections alike would be reduced down to a simple ring, or lack thereof, of an alarm.

You spot him easily despite being much too early to your meet up. He's sitting at a table outside the campus cafe, faced away from you as he seemingly focuses on something inside it. People watching, perhaps, as he awaits your arrival. Two drinks rest on the table and the sight makes your heart speed up a little, knowing that one is probably for you. But before you can call out his name or go surprise him, you realize exactly what—or rather, who—he is looking at.

A girl walks out of the cafe and it's obvious the way his gaze follows her and the way she lights up at the sight of him. What's more obvious is that the big smile on Sangyeon's face, the same smile that you'd seen so many times before, is now directed right at her.

And sure, you can tell yourself that it's nothing. That all of this is a coincidence, and that it's only happening because he hasn't spotted you. You're early, after all.

But there's no way you can deny what happens next, for when the girl takes another step forward, the ping of a phone sounds: the ringing of a love alarm. You can't mistake the sound for anything else when it's in ads and in classrooms and everywhere around you, and when the second ring of a love alarm cuts through the air, it's definitely no mistake. The sound is distinct just like the glow of the heart on the screen when the girl pulls out her phone. Just like the glow on Sangyeon's face when he pulls out his, too.

You freeze because many things soon become clear.

It might've meant something when he remembered your coffee order, but it looks like he knows hers too. The smile on her face grows when he hands her the drink, voice carried over in the wind as he says, "I got you your favourite." The light pat on the head that you thought was something only for you now ruffles her hair, disarranging it from where it sat neatly before. And the bright smile with the dimple in full view that hadn't been for anyone else rests on his face now, no longer directed at you but at her. The same person whose love alarm he rang.

It's clear you'd been looking for things that weren't there this entire time. The tutoring sessions were just that: tutoring sessions. Nothing more, nothing less. He may have brought you coffee on more than one occasion, but that was just an act of kindness. Taking you out for dinner after your midterm grades came back was simply a celebration, not a date, and remembering all the little details that you told him was only a sign of his amazing memory. None of that meant anything, and now with the love alarm, it's painfully obvious—while Sangyeon may have made you feel special, it's really just his personality.

There's definitely no mistake when you stumble forward, landing right in the range of Sangyeon's love alarm. Your app is silent the moment you enter, and it stays silent when he turns to leave with the girl, hand in hand.

You pull out your phone and send him a quick text with the first excuse you can think of for cancelling today's meet up.

A few hours later, you're in the safety of your bed with your head buried under several pillows when the door quietly creaks open.

You don't need to look up to know it's Juyeon, no doubt coming over to see how you're doing. Not that you really told him anything—you simply said that things didn't work out, without a name nor a mention of what happened at all. But even with just that information, your best friend understood.

Juyeon crosses the room and sits down beside you, making the bed dip slightly under his weight. He doesn't say anything, giving you space to open up about what's bothering you on your own, but there is a very intentional crinkling of a bag that breaks the silence.

It's bait. The bubble tea and takeout that he places on your table are an invitation for you to stop moping and to open up about what happened. Judging by the colour of the drink, it's your favourite too. Who needs Sangyeon to bring you your favourite drinks when you have a best friend who can do that?

"Are you okay?" he finally asks, eyeing you as you stab the drink with the straw a little too aggressively. "What happened?"

You make him wait until you all but inhale your drink. "Ugh, this is so embarrassing. I saw him by the cafe today, and there was a girl with him."

"And?"

"I saw them ring each other's love alarms, okay?" You sigh, not wanting to tell him about it but finding no way around it. Getting rejected was bad enough; you don't need him to tell you that he was right to be worried about this.

Although Juyeon doesn't react right away, you can see the gears turning in his mind and you know what he must be thinking—that it's the love alarm that's making you feel this way, and that none of this would've happened if it hadn't been for the app. That this incident only proves it does more harm than good. And while that may be true to some degree, the app still did its job and revealed the truth.

On the other hand, not all has been lost because Sangyeon still has no idea about your feelings. With the love alarm, you were able to find out how he feels about you without giving away how you feel about him. It's exactly like what you told Juyeon—the app not only made confessing easy, but it made rejection easy as well.

"Maybe I'm just unlovable," you mutter, grabbing a pillow to hide your face from him. "I've had this alarm since it came out and it hasn't even rung a single time. Maybe it's defective. Maybe I'm defective."

Juyeon pries the pillow out of your hands, and there's a firmness in his gaze right before he looks away. "Y/N, you're not unlovable. Maybe the people that like you just aren't dumb enough to download the app."

"Ugh, shush. I swear you have something against the app, like a personal agenda or whatever."

"I'm only trying to say that just because there's an app to tell you who you like doesn't mean you should treat all this like a game," he scoffs. "Those people who go around trying to collect as many hearts as possible? They're treating those hearts like—like Pokémon or something, not like the feelings of real, living people."

"So? What does that even mean?"

"The love alarm doesn't have to mean anything. You should look beyond that and see what people are doing. What they're trying to tell you through their actions."

"I thought that's what I did with Sangyeon," you roll your eyes, still feeling bitter. "And it turned out to be entirely wrong."

He doesn't have anything to say in return, opting to shrug and then pass you your drink like that would distract you from the situation. You don't feel like you've won this debate at all, if you could even call it that.

"So Sangyeon didn't ring your love alarm."

You immediately shoot him a glare. "Do you really have to bring it up again? Are you trying to rub it in? Are you happy about that—"

"Well," Juyeon says calmly, not showing any sign of having heard your outburst, "did you ring his?"

Of course, you open your mouth to say, the words resting at the tip of your tongue. But then everything stops. The room stills and you can't seem to remember anything other than the startling realization that sits at the pit of your stomach. All you can hear is the echo of his words replaying in your mind: did you ring his?

It's something you hadn't thought about until this very moment. You were so focused on how Sangyeon didn't ring your alarm and how he likes someone else, that you entirely missed this part.

Because he may not have rung your alarm, but you hadn't rung his either.

The question constantly circles your mind for the next while. Sangyeon was your crush and you'd been so sure that if you could ring anyone's love alarm, it would be his. You thought you'd liked him enough—as much as anyone should like a crush—but what happened that weekend has you questioning everything you thought you knew.

Because if it isn't him, like you'd always believed, then who could it be? What does it take to have your heart show up on someone else's love alarm app?

Soon enough, you're able to forget about it though. Juyeon acts as an effective distraction when he's nicer to you than usual, as if worrying about how you'd fare with your rejection. He drags you out of your room, claiming he's craving bubble tea when it seems like just an excuse to check up on you—not that you'd ever turn down a free drink. He asks you to accompany him at the library as he studies, though you're familiar enough with his schedule to know there are no upcoming midterms for the next couple of weeks. And when takeout gets delivered to your door, you don't need to look at the note to know who it's from.

You decide he doesn't need to know that this Sangyeon thing isn't such a big deal. Sangyeon wasn't a huge part of your life, and with the rejection feeling more embarrassing than painful, you start questioning your feelings for him. It's probable that you never truly liked him, and what you experienced was something your mind conjured out of boredom. Life is boring without a crush, after all.

"You okay?" As soon as you open your door, Juyeon eyes you up and down like he's judging the evidence of late nights written under your eyes. There's a hint of a smile on his lips, and without another word, he turns and leads the way out of your building to head to class.

The two of you don't make it very far before getting interrupted.

"Hey, Juyeon," a tentative voice floats over. Off to the side, there's a familiar girl that comes into view—a freshman if you remember correctly—staring at Juyeon with hope filled eyes.

You know exactly what's to come: she'll be asking him out, he'll freeze and try to figure out how to reject her, and then he'll ultimately give in when he doesn't figure it out. After that, he'll spend all week lamenting to you about the date and regretting his decisions.

"I wanted to talk to you," the girl continues, not sparing you a single glance as her eyes seem to drink in Juyeon in his entirety. "Oh um, is your love alarm not on?"

It used to be funny watching him struggle to answer, but you find it hard to remember how that feels when a surge of annoyance washes over you. It has you looping your arm around his, tugging him closer until the two of you are pressed together, side by side. "Juyeon doesn't have a love alarm, and he's not available," you say, putting on an exaggerated pout and not pausing to care about how it feels all too fake on your face. "Nor is he interested. Sorry."

She's shocked, to say the least. Her mouth opens but nothing comes out, and at Juyeon's nod confirming your words, the poor girl leaves, quick strides soon making her disappear from your view. You shouldn't be taking it out on her, but the satisfaction that follows has you justifying it was all to help Juyeon break out of his endless cycle of being unable to reject people. Because that's what friends do, right? It's your job to help your best friend in any way possible, and that's precisely what you did.

Juyeon turns to you with a sparkle in his eyes, pleasantly surprised with a hint of a smile on his lips. "Thanks, I think."

"It makes you uncomfortable when people do that but why don't you ever tell them off?" you ask, thinking back to all the times you said he's too nice for his own good.

He has always hated it—the love and attention he's showered with from strangers who don't know him, and who don't bother trying to know him beyond the picture they've painted in their own minds. Juyeon doesn’t like the expectations, and he especially dislikes the disappointment and the disinterest that follow once he's found to be different from those expectations.

Perhaps that's why he is so guarded. It's hard to tell who else he is close to when he doesn't open up to anyone but you.

"Hmm," Juyeon hums as he thinks. "I feel bad. Everyone deserves a chance."

"Yeah, but they're not giving you a chance. The real you—not whatever they think of you."

He shrugs a little, expression softening as he meets your eyes. "That's why I have you."

Then he starts walking again, tugging you along by the arm you chained with his.

But the whole trek across campus, you’re thinking about what he said. His words, along with everything else he's done for you lately, are gradually making you realize that this is something you never had with Sangyeon. Looking back, it's like you hardly knew the senior at all. He may have made you feel special and let you open up to him, but he gave away almost nothing about himself in return—forget about vulnerability, you don't think he even told you about his thoughts on the latest Marvel movie. It's clear you never got to know him in the way you know Juyeon.

"Um, I have to," Juyeon gestures awkwardly after coming to a stop outside his classroom, "get to class now." His eyes then trail down to where you're still clinging onto his arm tightly.

"Right, sorry." You quickly let go, stepping back to give him some space. "Have a nice class. Don't get too wrapped up in those proofs."

He nods, a sparkle appearing in his eyes. "Hope you survive Hyunjae annoying you."

The moment you walk into your lecture hall, the boy in question is clambering over the rows of seats to get to you. He slides into the seat to your left, while you very obviously ignore him, and then leans across the armrest until his face is very obviously in your way.

You sigh, finally turning a little. "Yes?"

"Y/N, don't you want to hear about what I found out?" Hyunjae's wide eyes stare at you excitedly, unblinking. He doesn't bother moving away either—perhaps last year you would've pushed him away, but strangely enough, you've gotten used to his lack of boundaries. Without waiting for your answer, he continues. "I know the reason why you couldn't ring that hot senior's love alarm."

"What? Wait how did you know—"

"I have my sources, Y/N," he waves you off dismissively. "Anyway, do you want to hear about it or not?"

"I don't, actually."

A smirk starts to spread. "Okay, I'll tell you because I'm a great friend. The reason why you couldn’t ring his alarm is because you never actually liked him."

"What on earth are you talking about?" You stare him down even at the risk of going cross-eyed with how close his face is hovering.

His words don't deter you because that's pretty much what you had been thinking too: you never truly liked Sangyeon. If you didn't manage to ring his alarm, then this must be the only logical conclusion. He was available, and you enjoyed the excitement of digging into his every word and gesture so much that you ended up believing you had feelings for him. But it wasn't real.

"Fine, maybe I didn't really like him," you mutter, turning away from Hyunjae to flip open your notebook for class. "So?"

"You thought you liked him, but you never did..." He leaves his sentence off at an intentional cliff-hanger, and then goes to cover your notebook with a hand so you'd have no choice but to turn back to him. "Because you're actually in love with someone else."

"Yeah? And who might that be?"

The smirk widens. "Juyeon."

There's no way you're hearing correctly.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"Shut up, stupid." You push his hand off your notebook and turn to smack him instead. "Would you stop shipping your friends? That's creepy."

"Y/N, seriously. Think about it—you basically know everything about him, right?"

"We're close friends. Wouldn't it be strange if we didn't know everything about each other?"

Hyunjae heaves a sigh and ultimately sits down properly in his seat. "Okay, if you don't believe me, fine. I know someone who might be able to ring your alarm."

"What?"

"Weren't you complaining that no one rang your alarm? Well, I know someone who might be able to change that. You know Kim Younghoon, right?" He waves a hand to get your attention again. "Tall, handsome, looks like he could be a model? I think he said you were in the same tutorial as him in first year." At your lack of response, he rolls his eyes impatiently and slouches in his seat. "Just come with me after class and we'll see if he actually rings your love alarm."

Soon, the class starts, and you want to thank the professor for making Hyunjae finally shut up.

Three whiteboards of math formulas later, Hyunjae's tugging you down the steps of the lecture hall insistently. You try to use Juyeon as an excuse to get out of whatever he has planned, but it backfires—Hyunjae stops by Juyeon's classroom next door and goes to drag him along too. The poor boy is still finishing up the last of his notes, squinting at the tiny writing on the board when Hyunjae starts packing up his stuff for him. All for the purpose of proving to you that your love alarm isn't defective, it seems.

While heading towards wherever Younghoon says he is, you manage to sneak a glance at Juyeon, hoping to share a secret laugh about Hyunjae's obnoxious antics or exchange a knowing look. But Juyeon doesn't glance your way. He's been strangely quiet since Hyunjae explained what's going on and he merely shrugged when you mouthed an apology. Now his head is bent, gaze fixed on the ground in front of him, lips set into a line.

There's a small crowd in front of the arts building Hyunjae leads you to. At a glance, none of the faces are familiar and you're about to tell him to stop with this prank until the crowd opens up a little. A guy—tall and model-like just as he had described—steps away from the circle as he laughs, throwing his head back. You immediately know who he is.

The sight of him takes you back to the two long days spent working on the tutorial project at the library in your freshman year. You remember the exact shape of his smile, having spent all too many of those forty-eight hours staring at it—at some point he seemed to be glowing under the sun streaming through the windows, although your sleepless brain could've easily hallucinated the image.

Younghoon is busy talking to his friends and doesn't seem to notice the three of you approaching, and briefly, you wonder if it's best to keep it that way. So you decide to stop right outside of Younghoon’s ten-meter radius. Hyunjae shoots you a questioning look, but you can’t possibly explain your hesitation to him when you don’t understand it yourself. Shouldn't this be what you want after all you've complained about your silent love alarm? Yet there's a twisting in your gut making you think all of this is wrong: using the alarm, relying on it to bring you that special someone. Letting it tell you who you should love.

You brush it off, thinking it's just Juyeon's influence. It would be difficult to not absorb his ideas when he's constantly telling you his stance.

But before you can make a move, there's a hand pushing you. It's a light shove yet it catches you off guard and makes you stumble slightly before you regain your balance. And before you can even spit out a string of insults at Hyunjae, who you're sure is the culprit, you notice you're right within the range of Younghoon's love alarm.

Something rings.

The ringing of your alarm catches Younghoon's attention, and his gaze snaps up towards the source of the sound. Then, eyes are on you—his and everyone else's in that group. Juyeon is watching you too but unlike Younghoon's hopeful eyes or his friends' teasing grins, the expression Juyeon wears is entirely unreadable. His face is neutral, yet you can tell there are plenty of thoughts swimming right behind those guarded eyes, which you make a note of to ask him about later.

You slowly pull out your phone and there, on the screen, is a small, pink heart. It seems to pulse where it rests just above the small line of words 'someone likes you!', and its image is so foreign that you have to exit the app and reopen it to check if it's real. And when the app opens again, it's still there. Floating and glowing at the edges.

Unless anyone else in that friend group has a crush on you—which would be even less believable when they're all unfamiliar faces—then it means that Younghoon is the one ringing your love alarm. Hyunjae wasn't lying about this.

There's a smile on your face after seeing the way his friends nudge him teasingly, and then you realize that the hesitation you had a moment ago was for nothing. Surely the love alarm can't be as bad as Juyeon makes it out to be if you're so happy after seeing this tiny heart appear on your screen. Surely it can't be bad when Younghoon shyly smiles at you and gives a little wave.

It can't be bad at all when you can feel your heart race the slightest at what's to come.

The date with Younghoon goes well—even better than expected. You don't know why you agreed to it, for you feared it would be awkward, but the excitement of the love alarm seemed to cast a spell on the two of you. It makes him smile and you laugh, and it makes the lights in the restaurant blur together as they twinkle enchantingly.

However, what pulls you back to reality is the part of you that can't stop thinking about what Hyunjae said. The idea of having feelings for Juyeon is absurd—you know it is. He's your best friend and has been for the majority of your life, and besides, you've seen him in less-than-optimal conditions and hadn't felt a thing. Shirtless? Been there, done that. Pantless? Not something you'd like to admit, but yes, there was that too. Crying his eyes out after watching a documentary about cheetahs? Surely no one who claims to like him would ever want to witness that.

So it's strange to you why this idea would stick around in your head, all throughout your date with Younghoon and all night afterwards, and even through the following days after that. It's as if Hyunjae planted an idea that you couldn't unhear or unlearn no matter what, like opening a pandora's box.

But that's the other thing—as ridiculous as the idea is, you're not completely sure it's something you want to unhear. It intrigues you, for one, and while the thought is strange, it's not entirely repulsive. It rather sparks a sort of curiosity, and you find yourself wondering what everyone else sees in him, what draws them in so much that half of campus is asking for him to download the love alarm. What he would be like as a boyfriend, how it might feel to be in his arms, and not in the purely platonic way that you've known since grade school. If it would be awkward and strange, or something else entirely—though what that something else may be, you don't want to unpack just yet. How it would feel to have his large hands holding you, to have the warmth of his body against yours and his lips—

"Y/N? Are you even listening?"

"What?" You give a sharp shake of your head to snap out of your daze, then turn to Juyeon with a smile. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"You didn't finish telling me about your date with Younghoon."

Shit, your mind is truly in the gutter if your thoughts had just swung from telling about your date to thinking about your best friend in... not such a friendly way. This is all Hyunjae's fault. "Um, right. Well, it's just that you were never interested in," you struggle to find the words, gesturing vaguely in front of you, "any of this, so I thought that maybe you don't really want to hear about it."

You end up telling him the rest of the story anyway but leave out all the important details.

That's only the first time it happens.

With Juyeon clinging onto you during all of your free time—he continues using the excuse that he's worried about you after the rejection, and you, for whatever reason, don't bother to tell him otherwise—these thoughts only continue to fester. They accumulate little by little until every cell in your body is filled with this overwhelming curiosity. And while Hyunjae may eye you with a cocky smirk that says he was totally right about the situation, you're too fixated on solving this mystery to care.

The next time, it's the staring. Mindless staring, you tell yourself, which isn't weird because people are drawn to faces, and maybe Juyeon is simply a face occupying your field of view. But then you're tracing over his features with your gaze, slowly travelling along the shape of his dark eyes, the bridge of his nose, the smooth lines of his jaw all the way down to his chin.

You knew what he looked like, of course. Over ten years of friendship has taught you how to pick out his hands in a group picture of twenty pairs of them making finger hearts in front of a campfire, and how to recognize the back of his head rows ahead of you in class. But it's a lot like looking in the mirror—the more you stare at this familiar face you see every day, the less familiar it looks. Have his lips always curved up slightly at the corners? And has the mole always been just above his right eye? You don't recall ever noticing it.

"What?" he asks and there’s no sign of annoyance in his voice, but rather amusement.

"Hmm?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks a little softer.

Then he shifts and leans across the desk as if purposely letting you stare. Up close, the mole is more apparent, and he has more than just the one above his eye—there's one at the side of his face, and one more on his neck below that.

"What are you doing, Y/N?"

"W-what? Oh, um," you jerk out of your reverie, moving your chair back until there’s some space between the two of you. "I never noticed how many moles you have."

"Oh," his lips automatically turn into a frown, "yeah, I have a few."

He gradually turns away, sitting back down in his seat beside you but the frown persists. For some reason he looks almost disappointed, and you can only assume that it's because there should've been a better revelation than the fact that he has moles. Moles are boring and certainly not worth having moved closer until he was mere centimeters from you.

"I'm just kidding," you nudge him, trying to save the situation. "I was looking for your secret."

Juyeon does turn at the bait, face unreadable. "What secret?"

"You know the one I'm talking about."

For a second, it does seem like he's falling for the trap. There's a shadow of guilt that flickers over his face, and you almost think he really is hiding something. That there has to be some secret he's keeping, even if you aren't trying to dig—you meant for this to be a joke.

But whatever it was disappears as quickly as it arrived. Juyeon raises an eyebrow instead, lips curving into a playful grin. "Well? Did you find it?"

"Yup," you nod, "I found it but don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."

"Ah, really?" The smile is still there, though it turns a little softer, and perhaps more serious. "I really hope it is."

The idea of Juyeon's secret soon gets erased from your mind, but the thoughts of being in love with him continue to stick around. Every drink Juyeon buys you now becomes a reminder of how well he knows you, every study session becomes a note of how much you enjoy his company. His every touch, whether it's slinging an arm around your shoulder or grasping onto your hand, becomes a chance to overthink and second guess yourself.

"I'm going to live in your room from now on," you announce, crashing onto his bed right after your only shared class. "Look at you, getting your own bathroom. Ugh, you would never understand the pains of having to share one with other people."

"I told you we should've rented a place together," Juyeon shrugs. "But if you don't mind being pressed against the wall when you sleep, then sure." As if for emphasis, he throws himself onto the bed beside you. He's correct that there really isn't much space on the small single bed, for half of his body lands on you, nearly crushing you with his long limbs.

"I don't think you know how heavy you are," you shove him lightly and then move out of the way so that he ends up beside you.

It's nice. Closing your eyes takes you back to old sleepovers you had as a kid, where you used to sneak out of your sleeping bag and into Juyeon's bed. The two of you lying side by side, talking about anything and everything until the brink of dawn. It reminds you that it's been a while since you revisited any childhood memories as if they were a photo album that you look through every so often.

"Remember the time we had a fake wedding in like, second grade?" you ask, trying to recall the scenes of what happened, play by play.

"How could I forget? Your shoes were so sparkly, and you had all this lipstick smeared on."

"And there were those silly vows we made up."

He laughs and you join him, and for a second everything is okay. It's fine. You're transported back to a time when there was no second guessing and no questioning, but only the happiness that came with two kids being silly together.

"Who would've thought we'd still be so close after all these years? You know me so well that it's scary sometimes."

"Because I could use that to blackmail you? Oh please, I'm not Hyunjae," he chuckles, and you know you should be finding it funny too but can't bring yourself to laugh.

"No, because... if you ever leave one day, you'd be taking all of that with you." You turn to look at him. "Juyeon, you'd be taking the last fifteen years of my life."

A frown crosses over his features. "Why would you say that? I'm not going anywhere."

"But how can you be sure of that? Anything can happen. Maybe you'd get bored of being my friend."

"I'm sure it would never happen." He turns to face you too, shifting a little closer until you're looking directly in his eyes. "Because if it does, you'd be taking a lot more than just fifteen years of memories from me."

"Yeah?" you whisper. "Like what?"

Juyeon hesitates for a brief moment before he reaches over to caress your cheek as if it answers the question he sees in your eyes. "Everything, Y/N. You'd be taking everything. My heart, soul, everything that I am."

You're frozen as the gravity of his words sinks somewhere deep inside you, because you completely understand. Those fifteen years of friendship are what shaped you, what made you who you are today, and without them, you may as well be a shell of a person. Without Sangyeon, you'd be someone getting over a small crush, and without Hyunjae, you'd be lonely without any close friends in your major.

But without Juyeon, you're not sure you'd be anything at all.

Now, under the weight of his gaze, any chance of a response completely disappears when there are no words that can express just how much he means to you. You can only give in to the fear of losing him and to the intense wave of affection engulfing you, telling you to inch forward and close the tiny distance between you until there's nothing left. Until your lips are meeting his and the tangible connection can reassure you that he's real, that this is real, and that he's here and everything will be fine.

It's tentative at first. You have half the mind to hold back despite the want that suddenly aches through your body, now knowing that it has mistaken itself as curiosity this entire time. Wanting to kiss him, to have his body pressed against yours, to know what it's like watching his eyes darken and hearing him fall apart. To know him in a way that even his best friend doesn't.

A moment later, you're about to pull back but what you don't expect is for him to drag you closer until your limbs are intertwined together, the sheets are tangled under you, and you're feeling the thud of his heart pattering restlessly under your hands.

You break away first.

"Oh, um—sorry," comes tumbling out of your mouth while attempting to put some distance between the two of you. "Sorry, sorry. I just—I wasn't thinking. Well, no, I was. I was thinking about it but didn't realize I was actually doing it, and—"

"Y/N, relax." He brings his hands up from your waist to caress your face. "It's fine. I wouldn't have kissed you back if I didn't want it."

"You—kissed me back?"

Juyeon nods. "Yeah." And in his dark eyes sparkling with the reflection of the lights, you find something that looks a lot like the mirror reflection of yourself.

You don't stop it from happening when he goes to initiate the second kiss, nor when it leads to a third, and you don't want to stop even when it's much more than you need to draw an answer from.

It takes a while to get your senses back, and the weight of what you did doesn't hit you until much later when you're lying in your own bed, staring at the ceiling.

You kissed your best friend. Not just once either—it was enough times that it couldn't have been an accident. Enough times to find out your truth and for him to practically admit his through soft lips ghosting across your skin. Whatever this was, was fully intentional.

The way the two of you completely avoid the topic the next day makes it seem like a mistake, though. If you didn't know better, it's almost like nothing happened when life continues in the same light and casual manner as it always has. As if the entire event appears to be sealed and locked away in the depths of your memories.

But the truth cannot stay hidden for long, and it's not hard to spot the way it seeps between the bars of its cage.

There's the slight crack in Juyeon's voice when he greets you, the initial hesitation in his steps before walking towards you after class. There's the way you try to make things sound casual, though it comes out so overly casual that it clearly sounds forced—he doesn't call you out on it, and for some reason that makes it even worse.

If this tension were with anyone else, you would've easily cracked a joke and laughed it off. But the fact that Juyeon is your best friend and you kissed him isn't something you can resolve so easily. It has you thinking nonstop: what if that kiss has ruined everything? And although he kissed you back, what if he was just caught up in the moment? What if he has second thoughts and now finds it gross? There are so many variables and each one seems to lead to an outcome even worse than the previous.

"Hyunjae," you whisper to get his attention when he doesn't look up. "What are you doing?"

He doesn't appear to hear you, but he might as well be asleep—there's a baseball cap pulled low so that it blocks a good chunk of his face, and he's leaning against the wall beside his seat at the end of the row. You give him a little nudge that seems to do the trick.

"Hmm? Oh, hey, Y/N." He quickly adjusts the hat and sits up a little straighter, and in that one moment, you can see his entire demeanour change. Where he had a blank expression before is now occupied by his signature smirk, appearing instantly like he's intentionally plastering it on. "So, are you going to stare at me for the entire lecture or are you going to spill what's on your mind?"

"Um... my friend has been asking me for love advice," you start, maintaining nonchalance in your voice. "How do you tell if you're in love with someone or not?"

"Your friend? Really, Y/N?" Hyunjae deadpans. "You're asking for a friend?"

You nod and hope for the best despite how it gets you a scoff and the raise of a brow. He doesn't believe you but hey, what's wrong with asking for a friend?

"Right. Well, that's easy," he shrugs. "Just use the love alarm—download it for him or something. It'd be the easiest way to figure it out." At your silence, he chuckles. "What, did you think you'd have to go around kissing people to find out if you're in love with them?"

Oh.

You don't say anything. You can't when your entire body feels like it’s just been dunked in cold water. Yes, that's exactly what it is—the chills of mortification threatening to pull you right into the ground.

"What, you never thought of using that?"

You’re never going to speak again.

Slowly but surely, the confusion on Hyunjae's face melts away and turns into shock, followed by realization, and his eyes become larger than you've ever seen them before. "No way," he gasps loudly. A few heads turn from the nearby rows. "No fucking way. Tell me that's not what happened. There is no way you actually kissed—"

In one movement, you hurriedly cover his mouth before he can get the attention of the rest of the class too.

"Shut up." You only pull your hand when he seems to have calmed down. "I'm never telling you anything ever again."

To your surprise, he doesn't laugh about it or start making fun of you. On his face isn't his signature cocky smirk but rather a softer smile, closer to a look of genuine happiness. "See? I told you there was something there. Well, was it good? Did you get your answer from it?"

"Honestly? I have no idea," you mutter. "Trust me, I wouldn't be here asking you if I knew."

"I think you do know the answer. You're just asking me because you're scared to admit it."

The professor walks in before you can ask Hyunjae what he means, so you're left with that line haunting you for the rest of the lecture. And while you try to pay attention and scribble down everything on the board, there's a weight in your stomach—something you'd been dismissing as being nervous to meet Juyeon later—that seems to grow.

You hate that Hyunjae is right. How have you not thought of using the love alarm? You wouldn't need to go around kissing people if you just downloaded the app on Juyeon's phone to solve this mystery once and for all. The best part is he wouldn't even have to know—if you could get your hands on his phone, then downloading the app, confirming your suspicions, and deleting it could all be done without his knowledge. If only you'd thought of this before the kiss, then things wouldn't have to be so awkward between you and Juyeon now.

With a quiet thanks to Hyunjae at the end of class, you quickly slip out of the room and make your way to Juyeon's dorm.

A study session and dinner are what he promised, but you know it's another attempt to keep things the same and to pretend nothing has changed. Which is fine; you're good at avoiding things. What isn't fine is the fear that you'll ruin what the two of you have. That this kiss has already ruined it, and it's inevitable regardless of how long you keep avoiding the topic.

And so, the studying gets done. Your time together is mostly spent in silence when neither of you have much to say, and you try to keep your eyes glued to your laptop screen so they don't start wandering over to him. That definitely would not do you any favours.

It's hours later, after you finish watching your module and the sun has long set, when an opportunity comes your way.

Juyeon gets up from his chair, stretching his limbs out and nearly hitting you with his long arms. He gives you an apologetic smile before heading out the door to grab your food order and doesn't bother to take anything with him.

Including his phone.

If you were going to get any opportunity to find out the truth, now would be the time.

While you know it might be a slight invasion of privacy, it's not like you're going through his phone. You'd simply be downloading an app—what can be the harm of it? What's so bad about the love alarm anyway? Besides, you have to do this. You can't stand the tension that's been lingering between you ever since that day, and having to pretend that it's not there, that none of it happened, is killing you. You have to solve this mystery once and for all. You have to know.

And now, his phone is right there. It would be so easy to unlock it with the passcode you know and then download it for him.

So that's what you do. You take his phone and keep an eye on the door as the download progresses slowly, tapping your fingers impatiently on the screen as if that would make it go faster. The app opens just as slowly, showing the initial set up bar moving towards completion at the bottom of the home page.

Then you squeeze your eyes shut right as the app opens to the usual circle on the screen—this would be the moment of truth that you've been searching for.

This scene is familiar after running it through your head repeatedly over the past while, and you know what would happen. When you open your eyes, the screen will be blank, empty, with no sign of a heart in sight because you obviously aren't in love with your best friend. All of this will have been just a manifestation of overthinking Hyunjae's suggestion.

Except that's not quite what happens. Before you can finish visualizing the series of events, the abrupt ringing of an alarm interrupts and forces your eyes open. And there, on the screen, isn't the empty circle that you so vividly imagined—there's a small heart, exactly like the one that showed up when Younghoon rang your love alarm. In other words, it's real. It's the truth.

The heart is there, bright and solid and showing no signs that it's a hallucination of your mind or a figment of your imagination. It's real. But it's so miniscule that you find it hard to believe it's capable of changing everything. The presence of that tiny heart means you rang Juyeon's love alarm and you're in love with your best friend and—

Another alarm rings.

It's definitely not Juyeon's. His phone is already in front of you, unlocked and open to the love alarm app. Perhaps it could be a neighbour's alarm, though it's slightly too loud to have been coming through the walls.

Which leaves only one option, really. You carefully take your phone out of your pocket, holding it by the corner like you can't bear touching it, and then set it down in front of you beside Juyeon's phone. Sucking in a deep breath, you give it a tap and unlock it.

And sure enough, it's there. The two screens look identical side by side when the matching heart is on your screen, pulsing within the circle of your ten-meter radius.

But how is that possible? It must be a glitch—perhaps this stemmed from the fact that you downloaded the app for him. Maybe it somehow synced to your own heart because of that, or maybe it's not accurate because Juyeon isn't next to his phone to calibrate it or whatever. You don't know how the app works but surely, this has to be a mistake? Contemplating the idea of being in love with him was only a recent development, and now the love alarm is not only telling you that you are indeed in love with him, but that—

He's in love with you, too.

This is bigger than anything you thought you'd possibly discover.

The door squeaks. "Guess what? They even gave us free garlic bread because of the delay." Another squeak as Juyeon closes it behind him. He sets down the bag of takeout on his desk and rummages through it for a while, facing away from where you sat on the floor by his bed.

There's probably enough time for you to close the apps, delete his, and return his phone to its previous spot, but you can't bring yourself to do it. You're stuck in a world where the hearts in front of you are the only things that move.

"Y/N?" he asks when you don't respond. "What—"

Time stops entirely when you catch the series of expressions flickering across Juyeon's face. There's confusion, clearly a given with the scene in front of him, naturally followed by shock, where his jaw goes slack, and his widened eyes bounce back and forth between the two phones. Though if you thought it'd stop there, it doesn't, for the shock soon morphs into something unreadable. Something you don't want to read because of the implications that seem to be hanging onto this one moment, as if everything would change after this.

No, everything has already changed the moment the alarms rang.

"What did you do?" Juyeon asks, and his voice is flat, cold. A complete change from how it sounded mere seconds ago. "What is this?"

"I—I don't know," you answer honestly. "Juyeon, it's not true, right? They glitched, didn't they? Tell me it's not true; you don't like me like that."

You thought that would be what he wants to hear, that he would agree with you and sweep this under the carpet. But his mouth is set in a hard line.

"Is that why you've been acting so... so strange lately? The things that happened the other day—were you acting like you had feelings for me just because of some app?" He looks like he has more to say but stops.

"No, of course not. I was... um.” You don’t know how to fill in the blanks when you don't understand the situation yourself, so you resort to holding up his phone to show him instead. "Look, I rang your love alarm."

"And is that supposed to make me happy? Just because a heart appeared on my screen, I'm supposed to take that to mean something?"

"Juyeon, it means that I—"

"Y/N, you should know by now that those things don't mean anything to me. An app can't tell you who you love." Juyeon lets out a soft sigh, tugging at his hair as he runs his hands through it. "But it's not just about the app, it's everything you've done and how you've acted since downloading it. If you wanted to know how I feel about you, you could've just said something; you didn't have to snoop around with this stupid app."

The thoughts in your mind instantly disappear because what did he just say? There's no way you're hearing things correctly; heck, you don't think you've heard anything correctly since hearing the ringing of the two alarms. But one look at Juyeon's exasperated expression tells you that it's all true—what the love alarm has revealed and what he's saying. All of it is true.

"I wasn't going to ruin our friendship by telling you, but Y/N, I really thought I wasn't the only one who felt this way. What happened that day—I thought it was a sign that you felt the same." He lets out a scoff. "But to think it was all because you wanted to see if you could ring my love alarm after it didn't work on Sangyeon's."

There is nothing you can say to that because he's not wrong. Realization gradually dawns upon you, and it becomes obvious—in your little bouts of experimentation, you'd completely disregarded how he might be feeling and how he might interpret it. But now that his true feelings are no longer hidden from you, it's clear that he would recognize your actions as an act, as playing with him and toying with his emotions for the sake of seeing whether it’s possible to ring his love alarm.

It means that the kiss the other day would be no more than a performance for the love alarm to deem acceptable, and there is nothing you can say right now to prove otherwise.

"I—I should go," you mumble, leaving his phone on the table before packing your stuff into your bag. You can feel his eyes on you, the weight of his judgment like nothing you've felt before.

Later on, you're watching as the heart on your screen disappears when you step into the elevator, leaving you all alone with your thoughts.

Avoiding him for the next while is all too easy when he’s avoiding you too.

Being unable to ring Sangyeon's love alarm had a simple explanation—you never liked him as much as you thought you did, and the lack of pain from your rejection is certainly proof of that. But seeing the matching hearts on both your love alarm and Juyeon's isn't something so easily explained. There is no way that he could have feelings for you, just as you couldn't possibly have feelings for him.

You want to call it a glitch or an issue with the syncing of the app since technology isn't perfect, and maybe mistakes really are possible. But even in the depths of your denial, you can't deny what you heard from Juyeon himself, especially when it all adds up. Was this the reason he has never been in a relationship or ever mentioned being remotely interested in anyone? Was this why he's tried to avoid the people wanting to ask him out and why he claims to not need anyone but you?

Even more so, you can no longer deny the truths that sit deep in your heart, locked away. Perhaps what Hyunjae said was right: it's not that you don't know the answer, it's that you're afraid of it.

The following week comes around and there is dread weighing down your steps. You're sure Hyunjae would ask about what happened, but you can’t conjure up a story that doesn't make you sound like a villain—you downloaded the app onto Juyeon's phone, and in doing so, discovered more than you could handle. Oh and Juyeon caught you in the act and basically said you ruined everything. If Juyeon has told him anything already, you're sure he'd be Team Juyeon.

Even you would be Team Juyeon at this point.

Strangely enough, the class is quiet and Hyunjae doesn't look up when you walk in. You sit just a couple of rows in front of him, but he doesn't climb over the seats to get to you, nor does he try to get your attention. It automatically makes your heart sink a little, seeing that your prediction was right—Juyeon must've told him about what happened, and now maybe he's avoiding you too because he's Team Juyeon.

You stop by his row right after class ends. "Hyunjae, did Juyeon tell—"

"Hey, Y/N," he only meets your eyes briefly before tugging down his beanie and fiddling with the hood resting over that. "Sorry, I have to run. I'll catch up with you tomorrow, yeah?"

He's walking around you before you could get another word in, taking the steps two at a time and leaving the lecture hall without another glance back.

It happens the next few times as well. Hyunjae remains quiet and doesn't bother talking to you as if he can't bear looking at you. There is definitely no way you can get information about your best friend out of him like that, though you think there might be more to the story than he’s letting on. Fatigue is written on his face and on his body where he slouches in his seat, seemingly making himself as small as possible, and one day, he doesn't show up in class at all.

While the behaviour is strange for him, those thoughts are easily forgotten when your mind is still replaying the Juyeon scene as if it hadn't already spent weeks doing that. You replay the kiss, this time no longer focusing on how his lips felt between yours but rather everything he said right before that. How losing you meant losing everything, how this friendship means much more than solely fifteen years of shared memories.

It's ironic how this very thing is happening now. So much for promising to never leave.

You'd like to think that such a friendship would be able to withstand a misunderstanding, but this is something bigger than your friendship altogether. These feelings for each other, whether requited or not, are what's making your friendship teeter off the edge of a cliff, where one wrong step could really cause everything to come crashing down.

If there's one thing Juyeon was right about though, it's that you really were trying to use the love alarm to tell you who you have feelings for. Up until this point, everything you'd done was all based on an outside factor, whether that was letting Hyunjae plant the idea in your mind or using the love alarm to tell you the truth. But being on the brink of losing your best friend has allowed you to see that although the love alarm does reveal the truth, it is only able to scratch the surface of it. It may tell you who you like, but it can't tell you how well you know them, how many years of memories you've made with them, or why your heart feels like it’s being ripped apart without them. It's up to you to find your own truth.

"That’s disgusting," a voice says, immediately grabbing your attention. "You thought it was a good idea to ring my love alarm? Is that what you really thought?"

They're tucked away in the corner of the science building, a little off to the right of the path that would take you back to your dorm. A slender guy holds an object in his hand—perhaps a phone, judging by the way it glints in the sun—and a slightly taller guy is against the wall in front of him.

"I can't believe you had the audacity to do that. And to try to confess with it? It's almost funny how you think that this would change things. Who do you think you are?"

The guy being cornered against the wall is clearly taller and broader. You have no doubt that he'd be capable of overpowering his assailant, and yet, he has no notion of doing so. Instead, he cowers, slouching and dropping his head to protect himself as he stays still and takes whatever the smaller man has to give. Punch after punch.

But it's the smaller man's comments that especially surprise you. You never thought that the love alarm could do any harm, and from your personal experience, it hasn't done any. That's why you never understood why Juyeon was so against it. Yet hearing the venom in this man's voice at the thought of the taller man ringing his alarm, seeing the hatred in the way his fists connect with the taller man's body, it soon becomes apparent just what the love alarm has caused.

Suddenly, the idea of the love alarm being harmful doesn't seem so farfetched anymore. Juyeon's mindset doesn't seem so unbelievable anymore.

"Do I need to tell you this again? Stay away from me. You're nothing to me." A loud laugh seems to echo from the walls of the building. "I'd rather have the world end than be liked by you."

And then you freeze because the person now sporting a bleeding lip and quickly swelling eye is no other than Lee Hyunjae.

There is only a brief second of hesitation before you're running towards them. Pure adrenaline courses through your veins and erases any trace of fear for your own safety, as well as any structure of a plan. They're all thrown to the wind as you step in and grab the arm of the aggressor, holding him back as much as you could so Hyunjae wouldn't have to take another hit.

"What the fuck," he mutters, glancing back at you with furrowed brows and a tightened jaw. "Who the fuck are you? What do you think you're doing?"

"What are you doing? Beating someone up just for ringing your love alarm? What, like you're so important?" On a complete whim, you let go of the guy's arm but grab the phone out of his other hand instead. A blank circle remains on the screen, no longer holding the hope and potential that you'd looked forward to, but rather, it mocks. It mocks Hyunjae now and it mocked you before, and it blatantly states that no one loves you. That maybe it'll always remain blank, that a heart will never show up, and that there has to be something wrong with you because no one loves you—and what worth would you have if you're not to be loved romantically by others?

All the more reason to get rid of it. You exit the app, then tap the screen impatiently until it's deleted entirely.

"There," you shove the phone in front of the aggressor's face, showing him what you've done. He frowns at you but glances down at his own phone to check, and naturally, the heart that was once on his screen is now gone. "Happy now? He's not going to ring your love alarm anymore so fuck off and mind your own business."

With one last glare at you, he only scoffs before walking off, leaving you alone to comfort your friend.

"Hyunjae, what—you never mentioned anything about this. I—I had no idea this was happening. Why didn't you say anything? How long has this been going on?"

"It's fine," Hyunjae mutters, not meeting your eyes. Pain flashes across his face when he goes to sit against the wall. "I wasn't going to bother you with this."

"No, it’s not a bother," you say as you sit down next to him, yet the bitter taste of guilt rests right at the back of your tongue.

You know exactly why he hasn't told you, and it's that you probably wouldn't have listened.

During your shared lectures, you'd thought that he was simply avoiding you because he found out about your situation with Juyeon. You thought his odd behaviour was a reaction to you, that this entire thing was about you because he always seemed to be all up in your business, never letting you notice he didn't share anything about himself. He's never shared his problems with you, nor his feelings or thoughts, and to you, he was just someone to keep you entertained throughout your time in the major you share with him. It makes you sick to think about it now, but the truth is that you never truly saw him as his own person.

Just how many people have you upset without realizing it? You have to make things right somehow, and it has to start here and now.

"Hyunjae... look, I know I haven't been a great friend—well, okay, I know I've been pretty shitty to you this whole time, and I'm really sorry for that. But I do care. You don't deserve this, any of this."

"Just—forget about it, Y/N. It's fine. It's..." he pauses, sucking in a breath, "embarrassing."

"Hey, no, don't say that. It's not embarrassing to not be loved back. Painful, yes, but not something to be ashamed of. You weren't put on this world just to become someone else's object of desire, okay?"

"Yeah?" He finally looks up at you, albeit warily. "Then why did you delete my love alarm?"

You heave a sigh. "Hyunjae, if there's anything I learned this past while, it's that the love alarm doesn't mean anything. We love someone not because we have an app to tell us we love them; we simply do. We learn everything about them, we know their favourite bubble tea order, we know where they might go when they're sad or what their comfort movies are."

He says nothing but doesn't stop you when you go to wipe away the blood on his lips with a tissue, watching you carefully like he's thinking over what you said.

"So whether you have the love alarm or not, it doesn't change anything about who you love or the relationships you put effort into. It can be fun to have, but we shouldn't use it to influence our actions. Just because you rang someone's alarm doesn't mean you're in love with them because anyone can ring a love alarm. But not everyone will take the time or make the effort to get to know somebody and grow to love them for who they are."

The words that tumble out of your mouth start to slowly paint a picture. You can see the way Juyeon would reluctantly reject those who asked him out, how the love alarm would only bombard him with unsolicited confessions through endless ringing. It shows you that while it's nice having people like the idea of you, it's meaningless compared to the love that stems from fully knowing and understanding someone.

"Yeah," Hyunjae nods, "you're right. I never thought of it like that before."

"So please, don't use the love alarm anymore. It doesn't matter, Hyunjae. It's not worth it and I don't want you getting hurt."

A small smile creeps onto his lips before faltering as he winces at the pain. "Okay. But only if you promise to buy me bubble tea for the rest of the term."

And there, the Hyunjae that you're used to appears again. He makes a move to stand so you reach out a hand to help him up, and then place his arm over your shoulders so he can lean against you for support.

"Fine, whatever you want," you roll your eyes. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

"Thanks, Y/N."

"Wait, there's just one thing I have to do." Pulling out your phone, you go to where the love alarm app is and delete it without a second glance. This wouldn't fix everything, but it would definitely be the first step to getting there. "Okay, let's go."

Despite having to support the weight of his body as the two of you walk to his place, you feel a lot lighter than you’ve felt in days.

Hyunjae's apartment is on the opposite side of campus from where you and Juyeon live, though not too far away. It's spacious and personalized and looks more like a home than your little dorm room. Everything from the posters he has hanging on the walls to the rug on the floor give you more of a glimpse into his personality than he's ever revealed to you since meeting in first year.

"Thank goodness he's not back," Hyunjae mutters, kicking off his shoes.

"You have a roommate?"

"Younghoon."

"Wait, you live with Younghoon?" You nearly drop him on the spot. "Hey—why did you even need to ask me about the date then? I bet he told you all about it."

A teasing smile appears. "He might've."

You scoff, shaking off his comment before setting him down on the couch. Then it becomes a challenge of rummaging through his cabinets to find anything you could use on his wounds. A bag of frozen peas for his bruises, some wipes and bandages for where skin broke, and then you're sitting down beside him to patch him up.

"The thing you said earlier..." Hyunjae starts, the hesitation apparent in his voice.

"Yeah? What about it?"

"You asked me before about how to tell if you're in love with someone." His eyes briefly meet yours before dropping to the bandage in your hands. "Well, you don't need a love alarm or anyone else to tell you that."

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N," Hyunjae suddenly puts his hands on your arms, stopping you, then shakes you a little like he's revealing a big secret. "You really love him. I have never heard you talk about anyone like that before."

"Who said it was about Juyeon?" you mutter, unable to come up with a better response when you can't possibly refute it. "Okay, I might know his bubble tea order and—and his favourite study spot at the library, or that he has a mole on his palm, but that doesn't mean I'm in love with him."

Silence. He blinks at you but otherwise continues to stare wordlessly.

You narrow your eyes at him. "What?"

"Who said anything about Juyeon?" Hyunjae's signature smirk is back and in full swing. "I said you love him. Didn't drop any names there, Y/N."

"You literally suck. I hate you—" Unfortunately, a knock at the door interrupts the rest of your string of insults. "Um, should I go get the door?"

"Oh, I think it might be the package I'm expecting."

What's at the door is in fact not the package Hyunjae was expecting. Juyeon stands there, mirroring your surprised expression.

He recovers from the shock first with a cough. "Um, I came to see if Hyunjae is okay. If it's not a good time, I... I can stop by another time."

Without another word, Juyeon turns to leave. You automatically close the door and sit back down where you were a moment ago, still trapped in your daze. It's strange seeing him in a different context from the only one you've known, but the strangest part is how your heart does many things—for one, it speeds up in a way that isn't just from your shock of seeing him.

"Juyeon knows where you live? I didn't know you guys were that close."

"He's been here a few times," Hyunjae shrugs but stops you when you go to pick up another bandage. "You should go after him. Thank you for all this, but I can do the rest myself, Y/N. Really."

"No, I can't just leave you like this. I don't want you to be alone."

He lets out a soft sigh and lifts your jaw a little until you're looking right at him. "I'll text Younghoon, okay? He's probably already on his way back from class. Now go after him; I think you guys have some things to discuss."

So with one last worried look at Hyunjae, who's waving you off insistently, you go after Juyeon.

He's gone by the time you make it out of the building. Just how fast would he have been walking to completely disappear even though you took the stairs two at a time to try to beat the elevator?

At this point, you could head back to Hyunjae's, however, spotting Younghoon approaching with a wave soon squashes the thought. He says a quick hello and leaves it at that, and you know better than to be there to witness him freak out when he learns what happened to his roommate.

Your other option would be to stop by Juyeon's place, but a gut feeling tells you that's not where he would be.

The gut feeling turns out to be right when you see him on the steps of your dorm. He's on his phone, completely unaware of your presence as you approach, and that nearly makes you waver. While it's no longer a matter of being unsure about how you feel or about what you want, you do fear what might happen from this point onwards—you can't assume that he'll be willing to forgive you just because the two of you have been friends for so long.

"Juyeon?"

"Oh, you're back already?" He looks up from his phone and for once you can't read him—is he feeling awkward to have run into you while the two of you aren't on good terms right now? Or perhaps he's still upset at you for what happened with the love alarm?

Despite already knowing the answer, you still ask, "Were you waiting for me?"

He responds with a nod, and then you beckon him to follow you as you make your way to your room.

If you thought the tension would dissipate once you get there, you're completely wrong. In fact, it seems to only grow as the two of you are confined in your tiny room, and it doesn't help that you have to guide him to take a seat after he awkwardly lingers by the door.

"Yeah, um," you rack your mind for an explanation as you settle in the chair beside where he's perched at the edge of your bed, "Hyunjae was in trouble because someone had a problem with him ringing their love alarm. I was just trying to help him deal with his injuries."

Juyeon nods. "Yeah, I saw it happen."

"What?"

"I was passing by and was about to step in, but you got there and handled the situation. It was really brave of you, Y/N. Well, reckless but brave." He pauses for a while as his eyes flicker from yours to the floor a few times, as if uncertain about what he should say next. The tension in the air is so tangible that you're just about suffocating from it when he finally opens his mouth again. "And of course I wanted to check up on Hyunjae afterwards but... I actually came here first. To see if you were okay."

"Oh." Then you realize what he said and immediately feel the blood rush to your face. "Wait. If you were walking by, how much of that did you hear? The things I said to him."

"That's what you're worried about?" Juyeon scoffs, rolling his eyes even as an amused smile appears on his lips. "Y/N, does it matter whether I heard it or not?"

"I just—want to know if you know."

He frowns. "If I know what?"

"How I feel about you... being right this entire time," you say, diverting the subject away. "Because you were right about this whole love alarm thing. We shouldn't be using it to tell us who we like or don't like, and it's kind of stupid thinking that it can tell us something as important as our own feelings for the people around us. I just hate that I didn't realize it sooner."

Juyeon simply nods but doesn't make a move to ask you anything else. You can sense the hesitance in his demeanour again, from the way he avoids meeting your eyes to the way he fiddles with the cat plushie on your bed. "I'm sorry," he finally says.

"For what? I'm the one who installed the love alarm on your phone and messed everything up."

"For assuming the reasons for why you did what you did." Juyeon looks at you. "I was just freaking out over what you found because I thought it would ruin everything. But you don't have to acknowledge what I said—nothing has to change, Y/N. You can just pretend that I never said anything because it's not important compared to what we already have. I don't want it to ruin things between us."

"But what if I want to ruin things?"

Fear flashes through his eyes. "W-what?"

"That day I downloaded the love alarm on your phone—you have to know that I wasn't intentionally trying to ring your alarm or anything like that." You shake your head. "I would never hurt you like that, Ju. I was just... curious. I liked the things we did but I didn't know what that meant, and I wanted to use the love alarm to answer that for me. But it was pointless because I didn't need it to tell me something I already knew."

Unlike how you thought he might react, Juyeon closes his eyes as if bracing himself for a rejection. "And what is that?"

You take a deep breath, facing the fact that there is no way around an awkward confession this time, but you would rather take this any day than to fall into the trap of the love alarm again. This is your chance to make things right.

"I don't think you want to be a friend to me, just like how I don't want to be a friend to you. Juyeon, you said I'd be taking everything if I leave but I do want to take it all. I want to keep it so that you'd always be with me." You pause, observing the way he screws up his brows in confusion. "Okay, never mind. The TL;DR is that I do want you. As a friend, a best friend, but as more than that too."

Silence greets you, only filled with the hard hammering of your heart as you await a response that he doesn't give. You have to resist the urge to run. Who thought love alarms were a bad idea again?

"Only if you want that too, of course," you swallow nervously. "Because if not, forget I ever said anything, and we can just go back to being—"

Juyeon's eyes fly open. "I do want that. Y/N, you know me better than I know myself, but how did you not notice that this is all I've ever wanted?"

"Shut up. I'm dumb, okay? You should've just told me."

"I'm telling you now, Y/N. I've loved you for a long time," he pauses as he lets out a breath in relief and slouches, the tension easing out from his body. "But don't ask me how long because that's embarrassing."

You don't ask that, but you get the feeling that looking through old photo albums may reveal the answer. It'll be a thought to revisit another time, and you file it away in your head.

"There is one thing that I'm curious about though," Juyeon says deliberately, the playful smile on his lips telling you he's up to no good. "Where do I go when I'm sad?"

"Wait, you... you actually heard everything I said to Hyunjae? I can't believe you—Lee Juyeon, I hate you."

The smile only widens. "So where is this place you speak of? I didn't know I had one."

"It's here, dummy." You let out a long sigh, unable to help the way your gaze softens at his smile. "Whenever you're sad you always hide under my covers and end up hugging that cat plushie you won for me back in seventh grade, and—"

A bunch of things happen all at once. Juyeon shoots you a glare before setting the cat plushie in question back onto your bed, then he pulls you until you're seated right beside him. His hand gently cups your face as he leans in the slightest, though it isn't enough for anything to happen other than for you to immediately shut up. Which, judging by the twinkle in his eyes, is just what he intended.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then one to your cheek, but beneath these lighthearted gestures you can see a fondness in his eyes, so prominent that you must've been blind to not have seen it before. How could you have missed it? You'd spent so much time staring at your love alarm in the hopes it'd find you someone who looks at you exactly like this, but you never bothered looking up to see that they were right here all along.

And when you glance down at your hand in his, fingers intertwined together, it becomes obvious that your lives and your fates are woven in a way that has you coming back to each other at the end of the day. You might not know where the future takes you, but you do know that no matter where it goes or what it holds, the two of you will always be right beside each other.

Two years later, the world still rings at every corner. You heard it at graduation, and now you continue to hear it on the streets, followed by laughter and shocked gasps, and at your new office, and in commercials between YouTube videos. The world rings and yet yours has never been more silent.

Soft piano music is playing in the background of the cafe when you arrive. There’s sunlight streaming through the large windows, and you immediately spot Hyunjae by the way it seems to bounce off his dyed hair. What surprises you is that he's not alone—there's a taller man sitting beside him, laughing as he leans back in his seat, hand over his mouth. Though he's familiar, it isn't until you're at their table that you recall who he is.

"Younghoon?"

"Oh hey, Y/N." The laugh turns into a warm smile. "It's good to see you again. I hope you don't mind—Hyunjae insisted that I join."

"Yeah, of course, it's good to see you too. Juyeon will be here soon; he's just running a little late, and..." You lose your train of thought when you notice their joined hands—Hyunjae's slender fingers threaded through Younghoon's, the metal of matching rings sparkling brightly in the sun. "Wait, hold up. You said you were dating someone for the past year, but Younghoon is who you meant?

Hyunjae nods shyly, and you can see the beginnings of a blush dusting his cheeks. "Like you said, the love alarm never meant anything. Some things you have to figure out on your own, and well, you were right about all of it."

He doesn't need to explain further for you to know exactly what he's referring to. Years ago, the two of you had thought that having Younghoon ring your alarm would mean everything, and that a simple heart popping up on your screen could change the trajectory of your lives. It's a silly thought now; seeing the affection written all over Hyunjae's face as Younghoon nudges him is enough for you to know that things have turned out for the best.

The love alarm may have been fun for a while, but the silence around you now isn't a bad thing. It has you looking at the smiles of your friends instead of glancing down to check your alarm, and it has you sure of yourself, confident despite the many people that come and go and step into the ten-meter range that you were once insecure about. It has you seeing the sparkle in Juyeon's eyes as he walks through the door of the cafe, the gentle curve of his lips, and the way his face lights up the moment he spots you.

The truth has always been there—you just never looked for it.

minho was insistent upon seating himself next to you, ear perked up in attention as you made bad choices, just so he could hiss at you in reproach, swishing his tail furiously in disapproval at your choice of neutral shades and tones for your home. you’ve come to the conclusion that your catboy was biased towards bright colours like red and mustards with an equally enthusiastic inclination towards vivid patterns like polka dots, and dare you say that’s what he had in mind when he made you add those god forbidden red polka dotted curtains to your cart.

you indulge in his endeavors most times, even when he insisted you bought him a chew toy which he lost interest in within a span of a week, as you already knew he would, but you were adamant on drawing the line when it came to your interior decorations. you did not want your apartment to look like a scene out of a 40 teenage wardrobe with polka dots splayed across your windows and bright green futons on a sickly yellow couch. you were past the pop art era and would appreciate it if your cat respected your choices.

just to spite him, you went ahead and brought yourself a pair of beige curtains, doing it in the secrecy of your washroom where minho wouldn’t constantly peer over your shoulder. boy was that a mistake.

minho is considerably well mannered, on most days that don't encompass his daddy remarks and his constant eyerolls at your never ending urge to cuddle with him. but he's been short tempered with you for a week now, and you know he'd never say it aloud but you know by the way he rolls on his stomach, stretching on your verandah, clearly sulking at you and refusing to let you sit anywhere near him. you wouldn't blame him entirely, but you had taken his indifference to your affection as a sign that he wouldn't mind if you buried yourself in your work for longer than usual.

it had seemingly backfired, because minho was quite inclined towards your affection after all, and your absence had caused him loneliness to certain extent, and he had quite rationally feared that you had perhaps lost all interest in him, and you were soon going to leave him.

now minho had never been a great conversationalist, nor had he ever been exposed to the need of having a deep tall with you, so the notion of talking it out didn't cross his mind even for a second after this ill fated revelation settled down the pit of his stomach with a heavy thud.

the escalation of the situation was unavoidable and on a dreary wednesday evening, after a long day at uni, you found yourself stepping into the mess that your small apartment had become under minho's ministrations. the new curtains, only two days old, lay tattered up and shred to pieces and in the very middle of it lay the culprit himself, head resting on his hands and regarding you with defiant eyes.

but having to be on the brunt of his temper for half a week patiently, you had had enough, in the event of which you raised your voice at him, storming off to your room in your own temper, leaving him behind in the living room with glassy eyes and an anxious mind.

you didn't step out of your room all night then, not even to check up on minho in case he might have been hurt, rather, choosing to nurse your emotions and convincing yourself that you had no reason to feel so guilty about yelling at minho, though you had surprised yourself too.

in hindsight, minho knew that he had crossed a line and that you didn't deserve a cold shoulder from him, but he was petty to the point where he decidedly settled upon regretting later.

when you didn't come out of your room that night, he let out an apologetic sigh before curling himself up in front of your closed door and staring at the wood with sad eyes. he couldn't even heat you moving around, which meant you were probably already in bed on an empty stomach.

you found minho the next day, body curled up in a ball with his head resting on his hands, shivering against the cold floorboard. instantly you felt a pang of pain in your chest at the sight of him hugging himself to sleep contrary to the way he would often curl up against you on your bed with his head tucked against your chest. you hadn't slept any better, a restless night tossing around in your sheets in the absence of the warm figure you had grown so accustomed to every night and had woken up with a heavy heart.

crouching down beside him, you nudge his shoulder gently, all the anger from last night dissipating as you brushed away his long hair away from his eyes.

"hey munchkin," you called out softly, running your fingers through his hair, "get up and go sleep on the bed, the floor's cold."

minho shifted around till he was facing you, looking up at you through drowsy eyes that blinked at you in recognition. instead of getting up though he pulls you by the hand gently, motioning for you to join him on the ground.

the sun was coming up and by this time you would be preparing yourself breakfast but you complied with his wishes because if that's what he wanted, that's what he'll have. it was your own way of apologising for last night.

you join him on the floor, pulling his head to your chest and patting his back comfortingly.

"i'm sorry," the muffled apology came out in a hoarse voice that sounded wary of its own intentions, "please don't leave me."

wordlessly you press your body closer to him, letting his words and its meaning settle down.

"i'll never leave you little munchkin, i'm always here." you presumed that before questioning what he meant, you'd subdue his fear that washed over you like a wave of guilt and sadness.

you feel his head nodding against you, his hands clutching onto your shirt. minho was simple minded, he really only needed your assurance and love even though he'd never state that to your face.

"also," he looks up at you with wide eyes and you smile at him, "stop calling me 'little munchkin', i'm older than you."

with a pout that slowly turns into a smile when his face is hidden away from you, he falls back into a comfortable slumber. you laugh and pet his head.