evidence i.

“There’s a discount for couples today,” Minho commented as you both read the big letters on the cafe poster you were about to enter.

“You’re not thinking what I’m thinking,” you say already laughing, and the mischievous look on his face told you everything.

“It’s 35% off, that’s almost a free extra drink!” He chuckles. “Come on, I think we can be very convincing if we try,” he adds already taking your hand on his, intertwining your fingers and leading you inside. You can’t hold back the big smile that forms on your lips.

You both go straight to the attendant to ask for the promotional drinks, hoping for the best.

“Yes, our smoothies are on a special promotion for love birds,” the lady on the balcony explained politely. “Choose two flavors and you get the 35% off.”

“Great!” Minho cheered, his hand leaving yours to go firmly on your waist, bringing you closer, and you hope the way your eyes slightly widen isn’t obvious. He takes the menu. “I think I’ll go with strawberry banana. What about you, love?”

It took you a second to realize he was actually talking to you. Like yes, you’re ‘love’.

“Oh, I… I’d like the same as you, honey,” you say fast so you wouldn’t have to think too much, the pet name sounding strangely nice.

The woman nods as she registers your order. You’re opening your purse to get your wallet when Minho interrupts you.

“I’ll pay, don’t worry babe,” he winks, making you pause in confusion.

“Huh?” You tilt your head. You then steal a glance at the lady and remember you’re supposed to be playing along. You quickly try to disguise your surprise. “We can split, darling, I don’t mind.”

“Come on, it’s our anniversary, of course I’ll pay for us,” he improvises, already tapping his card on the payment terminal before you could protest.

“Oh, anniversary?” The lady looks up at you with curious eyes. “How long have you been together if you don’t mind me asking?”

“One year,” he replies promptly. You nod.

“Aw, that’s sweet. You two look so lovely together, I can tell just by the way you look at each other,” she compliments.

“We get that a lot,” he comments with a small laugh, his hand squeezing your shoulder. You grin to be polite, a bit too aware of his hand on you. It almost makes you miss the way his ears get redder.

“I’ll get your drinks, wait just a moment, please,” the attendant smiles as she turns her back to prepare the drinks.

“Copy cat,” Minho whispers when she’s not looking anymore. “You were supposed to choose a different flavor so I could steal from you.”

“I didn’t expect this to work, I’m nervous!” You whisper back.

“Why wouldn’t it work? You thought they’d ask us to kiss as proof or something?”

“Of course not, that’s not what I meant!” You hiss with your voice low, your cheeks getting a bit warmer.

“Here’s your order,” the friendly woman comes back with tasty smoothies, making you cease your banter immediately. “I hope you have a very special day today. You’re very lucky to have such an attentive gentleman by your side,” she says playfully glancing at you.

“Of course, thank you so much,” you shyly reply, trying to ignore the smirk that was growing on Minho’s face.

You sit on a table near the window, smoothies in hand. You can’t help but feel distracted by all that just happened.

“Wasn’t the discount the whole point of doing this?” You finally ask when you felt your cheeks weren’t on fire anymore.

“Yeah, she did discount it.” He shrugs with the straw between his teeth, already finished with almost one quarter of his drink.

“Then why did you pay for both of us? You ended up spending more anyways.”

He averted his eyes for a second before that smirk returned to his face. “Can’t I be a gentleman to my girlfriend?”

“We’re not actually dating,” you manage to say.

He pinched your cheek. “I got you a 100% discount, so stop complaining.”

evidence ii.

After that day at the cafe, for some unknown reason, Minho thought it’d be a funny idea to treat you as his girlfriend from time to time and started using pet names nonstop. Ironically, of course, as if it was an innocent inside joke. Or at least that’s what it looked like. But your heart couldn’t differentiate a joke from the real thing apparently.

That Tuesday you were at his place helping him with ideas to finish writing a sketch needed for a project which deadline was like, yesterday.

“Can you get the red pen for me, princess?” He asked you after taking some notes.

“Sure.”

“Thank you, honey,” he gave you his signature smirk before going back to writing frantically.

It all sounded like teasing, it definitely was, but it was starting to drive you crazy. Minho’s mixed signals were getting to you, and you couldn’t tell anymore if that was his way of flirting or if he was messing around as usual.

“Shoot, Chan’s already coming to get this paper,” Minho woke you up from your thoughts as soon as his phone screen lightens up with a notification. “He’s gonna nag at me the whole day if this isn’t done when he gets here…”

“You kinda deserve it,” you chuckle.

“It’s not like he didn’t finish his part on the last minute either,” he pouts, still writing.

“Ask him to buy snacks or cat food on his way,” you suggest. “That will buy you at least 15 minutes to finish it.”

“Ooh, genius,” he snapped his fingers and quickly picked up his phone to type the message to Chan, but not without teasing you first. “You’re not just a pretty face after all, huh?”

You didn’t know whether to feel complimented or insulted. He glanced at you and immediately laughed at your expression.

“Can you at least thank me properly for saving you here?” You lightly push his shoulder as retort, the tips of your ears redder.

He looks up at you, that stupid grin still plastered on his face. “Sorry, sorry. You know I’m just messing with you.” The corners of this mouth relax into a more genuine smile. “I’m aware you’re very smart and you’re really, really helping me a lot today. Even if you didn’t have to, you are,” he emphasizes in a sincere tone, carefully tucking a hair strand behind your ear, fond eyes looking straight into yours.

“Of course,” you play it off, trying not to sound as shy as you were getting. “You’ve helped me a lot before too so… It’s only natural.”

“Hm-hum. We’re partners in crime,” he nods, and pauses as if he realizes what he just said. He then gives you a look, his smirk making a return. “Who else would I call in this situation if not my beautiful lover?”

Oh, this again.

“Yeah, sure. Now finish this quickly before Chan gets here,” you chuckle, trying to disguise the way your heart skipped a beat.

evidence iii.

“Horror movie? I’m not sure…” You mumble as you both stand at the movie theater entrance, Minho’s film suggestion not being exactly to your taste.

“This one is not that scary, it’s just a bunch of silly jumpscares. Come on, it will be fun! I’ll even let you embrace me if you’re that terrified, since I’m so reliable.” He bumps your shoulder trying to convince you. “Seriously, you’ll like this one, I promise!”

“You’re insufferable.”

You end up agreeing to go anyways.

He guided you to the tickets balcony with a hand securely on your shoulder. The attendant showed you the available seats on the computer screen. It wasn’t sold out, but it wasn’t empty either, so you still had a few options to choose from.

“Wanna get the seats for couples in the back?” He suddenly suggested.

You knew what he was talking about. The last seats on that movie theater were reserved for couples because you could fold up the center armrests in order to cuddle your partner closer. Now why was he offering that.

You turned to look at him, and he playfully lifted his eyebrows at you. Gosh. He was just teasing you wasn’t he. Why would you cuddle in a horror movie session anyway.

“No thanks,” you answer without thinking, but your heart was thumping on your ears. “Let’s just stick to the seats next to the stairs,” you say, avoiding his eyes this time.

“Pshh, you’re no fun,” he breathes out a small laugh, but selects the seats you picked anyways. He went a bit quieter as he bought popcorn. Meanwhile, you just stood there not sure how unserious he was with all of this.

You couldn’t really focus on the movie that day.

And he didn’t try anything the whole session besides laughing when you got scared.

evidence iv.

“I kinda missed you,” he said with a genuine smile when you bumped into each other by coincidence.

“It’s been barely a week,” you shrugged, trying to keep it together.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied, his lips curving into a smirk. “Can’t I miss my girlfriend?”

Yeah, sure.

You sigh. How you wish this could be true. But what if you speak up your mind and make a fool out of yourself? Would it ruin your friendship? What if he laughed at your face?? One hundred different scenarios go through your head to make you give up. …but suddenly your eyes lighten up as an idea came to mind. If he was just teasing you, you could correspond jokingly as well. Just to test the waters.

“If you wanted to see me that much you could have asked me out on a date.”

He stiffens instantly, like he didn’t expect you to actually play along. You never did until now.

“Date?” He echoes just to make sure, eyes slightly widened.

“Yes, honey. That’s what lovers usually do.”

“Really?” He tilts his head, trying to get the teasing tone back to his voice without much success. “So you won’t run off if I ask you out?”

“Run off? You’re ridiculous,” you can’t help but chuckle at his reaction, but you try to stay in character. “Why would I? We’ve been on dates before, haven’t we? The movies and that cafe.”

“…I see.” He finally nod, a tint of red coloring his cheeks. He clears his throat, and you could swear you’ve never seen him act so shy, his behavior changing so suddenly. “In that case, would you like to go out with me? I could… pick you up tomorrow afternoon.”

You felt like your heart was going to burst.

evidence v.

That day, there weren’t pet names. There weren’t couple jokes either. Actually, you were both a bit tense about the date.

“You know, I chose the cat cafe in hopes it wouldn’t be so awkward but I guess it didn’t work,” he says eventually with an embarassed laugh.

“No, it did work, the cats are cute,” you say quickly while caressing the feline sitting next to you. “I’m just a little distracted today.” A beat. “You’re also quieter.”

“Maybe,” he murmured, eyeing the kitten sleeping close to his leg.

“Yet you’re the one who was entertaining the whole lovers thing the most,” you comment. “I thought you’d be full of that today.”

“Well, yes, I was. But actually, I wanted to tell you that... How do I say it…” he bites his lip. “Today isn’t just teasing or playing pretend. I meant it when I asked you out.”

You feel your heart skip a beat. “I know,” you nodded. “I’m glad you did.”

“Yeah?” His tone softens. “I wasn’t sure if you were a fan of the idea since you were kinda pushing me away,” he admits as he fidgets with the straw of his drink.

“What? No, I wasn’t! Really,” you immediately try to explain, the cat next to you meowing in complain of your sudden move. You take a deep breath before continuing. “I’ve actually been overthinking it because I didn’t know whether it was all just a joke or if there was something more to it, so I was afraid of… you know… playing along and end up liking you even more to the point there wasn’t going back anymore,” you quietly finish.

He finally meets your eyes, taking a moment to really look at you.

“…That was the risk I was taking too.”

Your breath catches on your throat. He notices your silence and speaks again.

“I started this couple play-pretend thing because… You know.” He scratches the back of his neck, trying to find the words. “It felt like this way I could say and do all that stuff without scaring you off or sounding weird. Since we’ve been close friends for so long.”

Oh. Oh my.

“It wouldn’t sound weird. It would have worked from the beginning if you were just honest,” you say sheepishly, still trying to process his words.

“Yeah, I realize it now from that cute blush of yours,” he points out, making you redder.

“Oh, shut up,” you look down at the cat peacefully lying beside you again. There was a new feeling blooming in your chest. Giddy, fresh and safe, all at the same time.

“So…” he clears his throat. “May I take you to that cafe again this week? So we can get another couple discount and so I can do things for real this time. No play-pretends.”

And just like this, that excited, insistent smile you’ve been trying to hold back appears on your lips.

“…Will I get that 100% discount again?” You can’t help but tease.

“Sure, pretty.” He breathes out a laugh, not hiding his heart eyes either.

— ahhh this was longer than I expected but it’s kinda rushed at the same time..? anyways i think I’m happy with how it turned out ig dkdndjdj Lemme know what u guys think :))

— masterlist

[01:34 pm] guess who woke up from the best nap ever —

minho's lips curved into a full-blown smile as his eyes met a freshly awake joonie, his fur sticking out in every direction. the kitten’s head was tilted slightly, as if questioning the photographer whether he looked cute enough. he did. and so did the one behind the lens, minho was sure. he could imagine you there, adoring the kitten and trying everything to catch his attention for the shot.

ping.

[01:40 pm] we're sunbathing >.<

he could feel his heart expanding in his chest, pressing tight against his ribs until it felt like it might burst into tinier hearts.

joonie was curled onto your hand, engrossed in the way the sunlight hit your fingers. your hand was supporting the kitten, and he couldn't help but zoom in, remembering those same fingers resting on his soaked t-shirt, even if only for a few seconds. the photo gave a glimpse of you, clad in a black sweatshirt, looking far too cozy not to be hugged. well, at least joonie could hug you — minho would have to leave his own chance up to destiny.

his fingers danced on the screen, typing back a reply. after sending the last text, minho began wrapping up his work. he was finally done for the day and he couldn't wait to be back to joonie — and he couldn't wait to see you, too. the office air felt too sterile now, the hum of the tubelights a sharp contrast to the warm, hazy sunlight he had just seen on your skin.

​he grabbed his blazer, his mind already halfway across the hallway, wondering if you were still in that black sweatshirt or if you’d tucked yourself into the same spot joonie had claimed for his naptime.

————

after sending the sunbathing picture to minho, you had gotten up to do the dishes. the little ball of fluff still insisted on following you around, hopping near your feet as you stood by the sink, ready to begin the chore.

​"you wanna come up here ? you gotta stay put, though. if you slip into the sink, we'll have to do a very unscheduled bathtime, and i don't think you'd like that very much now, would you ?" you muttered softly to joonie as you lifted him and settled him into a basket near the sink.

​the kitten surprisingly provided wonderful company as you did the dishes, entertaining himself with the basket's handle and the ribbon tied onto it. you couldn't help but smile as he played by himself, rolling around with the blue ribbon he had somehow managed to get off the handle. he looked up at you suddenly, blinking as if to say — "you like me ? you like my little stunts ?"

​you were finally finished with the chore, wiping down the kitchen counter and drying your hands before you moved to pick up joonie from the basket, the ribbon still held fast in his tiny claws. an idea hit you suddenly and you couldn't hide your excitement. you took the ribbon from joonie's paws and whispered, "just a minute baby — stay still, hm ?". you softly gathered some of his fur and wrapped the ribbon around it, forming a cute bow. "aren't you the sweetest thing ever ?" you swooned, clicking more pictures as he nuzzled into you. as you cradled him against your chest, you felt the faint, lingering warmth of the sun still trapped in his fur — a soft, golden heat that matched the glow of the text on your phone.

you sat on the couch, scratching joonie softly as you clicked on the notification — from 'zero eight zero one'. and did it make your heartbeat stop.

[01:41 pm] without me ? i've been betrayed. i'm on my way to join this bonding session.

what a fucking flirt

wait — he was on his way ? to your house ?

good lord

you had to physically calm yourself down, the mere thought of seeing him after the text exchange making your heart race. you checked your reflection in the hallway mirror, smoothing down the soft fabric of your black sweatshirt and trying to pretend your pulse wasn't currently a frantic, jagged mess.

​ding dong.

​you took a deep breath in and moved towards the door, your hand trembling slightly as you turned the handle. lee minho was standing there, looking a bit tired from a long day at the office, but still gorgeous nonetheless. he had shed the structured blazer, carrying it over one arm, while his white shirt was slightly rumpled at the elbows. a slight smirk of a smile played on his face as his eyes moved from yours down to joonie, who was currently snuggling deep into the crook of your arm.

​"well — am i too late to join the bonding session ?"

​the low resonance of his voice in the quiet hallway. he stepped a fraction closer, the scent of the office and the cool evening air clinging to him.

"you're right on time actually — we — i mean joonie was starting to miss you." you smiled, a wave of heat blooming across your cheeks as you shifted backwards to welcome him into the house.

he followed you in, that amused smile of his widening as he watched you try to backtrack. he kicked his shoes off, his presence immediately making your living room feel smaller, more intimate.

"so only he missed me ? and here i thought you would too," he teased, his voice dropping into that low, rhythmic tone that always seemed to vibrate right under your skin. he settled on the couch, his eyes never leaving yours. "i was sitting in my office thinking about how much of a traitor my neighbour was, sunbathing without me while i was stuck in meetings. and here she says that she didn't even miss me ?"

before you could muster a reply, minho's eyes caught the little ribbon on joonie's tiny head as the kitten wobbled over to his owner. "oh my — joonie, did you get a makeover ?" a smile spread on minho's face as he settled on the couch.

​he picked the kitten up, cradling him against his chest as joonie seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the ribbon, batting at the loose ends with a tiny paw. minho let out a low, soft chuckle, the sound vibrating in the small gap between the couch and your armchair.

"ah — actually he had been playing with it, and, well, i couldn't help but see how he looked with the bow." you sheepishly replied, settling onto the armchair.

"i should thank you for your service, both at pet sitting and styling — he does look adorable," minho murmured, his voice warm and genuinely appreciative as he looked down at the kitten in his lap. joonie was currently batting at the loose end of the blue ribbon, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

​minho's gaze shifted back to you, his eyes softening. "i honestly wasn't sure how he'd handle being away. thank you, again."

"i had the best time with this lil guy, so you don't need to thank me — really. he didn't give me any trouble at all," you laughed, the tension finally starting to ease into something more comfortable. "if anything, he is the one who kept me entertained while i was doing the chores."

minho spoke with an amused smile, his fingers still tracing the edges of joonie’s ears. "so he was on his best behavior for you? typical. he usually saves his most chaotic energy for me when i'm trying to answer emails."

​you laughed, trying your best not to focus too hard on him — on the way the top buttons of his shirt had been undone, or the way his thighs spread against the couch, the denim of his jeans straining slightly.

​minho, however, couldn't fathom a better scenario. you were right there in front of him, laughing at his words, while his kitten — now carrying the subtle, sweet scent of your perfume in his fur — rested contentedly between you both.

​then again, as his gaze lingered on the curve of your smile, he realized he could fathom something better.

​your hands on him.

your lips on his.

you on him.

​the brief reverie was broken by the sound of your voice.

​"oh, i totally forgot to ask — you’ve just come from work and you must be exhausted. can i get you anything ? coffee, a snack... or maybe some actual food ?"

"ah thanks, i-i'll have some coffee," a semi-flustered minho managed to respond, clearing his throat to mask the direction his thoughts had taken.

you moved to the kitchen, pouring the coffee you had put on right before he arrived. bringing the mugs back to the living room, you handed one to minho. the mugs were emptied and time flew by as you both talked, your conversations changing routes but never ending. you told him about your finance job and return, you learned he was a creative director for a high-end fashion label, which explained the sharp blazers and his eye for detail.

minho couldn't help but feel full in his heart, learning more about you — which hobbies you loved, which book had made you cry, how you liked your coffee. as the hours flew by, you both could feel the connection deepen between the shared laughs and hums.

the air grew quiet, the only sound being joonie’s soft purring as he finally fell asleep on minho’s lap, the blue ribbon still tangled in his tiny claws.

"you know," minho started, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned back. "i have to confess something. i’ve heard my favorite song playing from your side of the wall a few times lately. i didn't realize we shared the same taste."

you felt the heat rush to your face instantly, your fingers tightening around your empty mug. "oh... that," you whispered, biting your lip. "actually, i only found that song because of you. i heard you singing it through the wall one evening and — i loved it so much i had to go find it and save it."

minho’s teasing smirk softened into something much more profound. he looked at you, really looked at you, and the room felt like it was shrinking. "you saved it because you heard me singing it?"

the teasing was gone, replaced by a raw, emotional weight. he reached out, his hand hovering just inches from yours on the armrest. "i guess i'll have to sing it more often then," he murmured, his voice thick with a sudden, heavy affection. "if it means you'll keep listening."

your hand instinctively moved forward, meeting his halfway as his fingers brushed yours. a surge of energy went down your spine, igniting all your senses; you could feel the change in the air with his every breath, the slight shiver in your hands.

​minho's heart stopped — for what felt like eternity. you had brushed your hand against him intentionally, albeit shyly, a blush dusting your cheeks as you stared at your feet. you were accepting — hell, you were inviting him. he softly moved his hand intertwining it with yours.

​your eyes flicked upward, meeting his already locked onto yours as you swallowed your nervousness. a small smile crept up your lips, mirroring the one on minho's. the moment stretched between both of you, swinging as neither of you wanted it to end.

​minho didn't want to wait.

but no — you deserved better.

better than rushed.

better than sudden.

and he'd control himself — for you.

​"thank you for the coffee," minho murmured, his voice low and rich as he finally stood, carefully lifting a sleepy joonie. "and for the good time. i should probably let you get some rest."

​as the door clicked shut behind him, you leaned back against the wood, a soft, breathless exhale escaping you. you could still feel the phantom warmth of his fingers against yours, the weight of his gaze still lingering in the quiet room. you could feel the dedication in the way he looked at you, his eyes telling a story that didn't need words. you were grateful he hadn't pushed, that he was willing to let this simmer. you loved taking your time.

how perfect.

—————

the next week comes and goes, both of you savouring each other's company with a slow, agonizing deliberation. minho had started the routine by sending you pictures of joonie as his 'official' payment for babysitting joonie — shots of the kitten yawning, rolled onto his back for pets, fiddling with the blue ribbon — but slowly, the payment had shifted into something much more personal.

the tension between you was simmering beautifully, a constant low-frequency hum that vibrated every time your shoulders brushed in the hallway. there were coffees dropped off at your door, lunches were shared and late-evening walks where the cool air was the only thing keeping you from overheating, and those quiet, domestic moments that felt far too natural to be new.

you had held hands again on your last walk, your fingers slotting together like they’d been designed for it. you were blushing the entire time, your face a permanent shade of pink as minho watched you with that amused smile. he knew exactly what he was doing to you. he was being a gentleman, a protector, a neighbour — but he was also being a total fucking tease.

honestly, you were craving him.

your thoughts were constantly filled with the ghost of the feeling of his hands. you could still feel the way his long fingers curled around yours, providing a grounding warmth that made your knees weak. but 'grounding' wasn't what you wanted anymore.

as you lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling and listening for the faint sounds of him moving through the wall, your imagination began to run wild. you didn't just want him to hold your hand. you wanted his hands on you — the weight of his palms pressing into your waist, his fingers tangling in your hair to pull your head back. you wanted them in you, filling the hollow ache that had been growing with every polite goodnight he gave you at the door.

you were tired of the 'better than rushed' pace.

you wanted the crash.

and did lee minho bring the crash.

as you were heading to bed, your phone pinged. you somewhat rushed to it, a secret hope that the name would read 'zero eight zero one'.

and it did.

attached was a video.

[10:42 pm] i think he misses playing with you.

the video loaded, and the breath hitched in your throat.

it wasn't just a clip of joonie. the camera was angled low, showing the kitten sprawled lazily against minho’s palm. those hands you’d been craving — the ones that had held yours so gently on your walks — were on full display. joonie was kneading his tiny claws into minho’s skin, nuzzling into the warmth of his hand as minho’s thumb stroked the kitten's head with a slow, hypnotic rhythm.

it was the intimacy of it that wrecked you. the way joonie looked so small and protected in his grip, the way minho’s long fingers curled around the tiny body.

[10:43 pm] he’s being clingy tonight. keeps looking for the hand that made him that bow.

you stared at the screen, your heart drumming a soft, steady beat against your ribs. he wasn't even trying to hide it anymore. the 'polite neighbour' was softening, replaced by a man who was finally letting you see just how much he’d been thinking about you.

the slow burn wasn't a spark anymore; it was a steady, glowing warmth. you didn't just want the sun; you wanted the comfort of him. you wanted those fingers — the ones currently cradling a kitten — to be tucked into yours as you fell asleep, promising that he wasn't going anywhere.

you bit your lip, a small, genuine smile tugging at your mouth as you tapped out a reply.

[10:45 pm] maybe he’s not the only one who’s been missing that.

the silence that followed was peaceful. you stared at the 'read' receipt, the tension in your shoulders finally melting away. then, the three dots appeared. they danced on the screen for a moment before a final notification popped up.

[10:48 pm] then i guess i’ll have to make sure he — and you — don’t have to miss it for much longer.

you looked at your reflection in the darkened window, the soft fabric of your sleep shirt cozy against your skin. you knew he was just on the other side of that wall, probably sitting in the same dim light from the video, a soft smile of his own mirroring yours.

you took a deep, contented breath and typed back one last message.

[10:50 pm] goodnight, minho. see you in my dreams?

you didn't even wait for the reply before clicking the phone off and tucking it under your pillow.

on the other side of the wall, minho stared at his phone, his thumb tracing the screen where your name glowed. he let out a quiet, huffed breath of a laugh, his heart feeling fuller than it had all week. he settled back into his pillows, joonie still purring against his chest, and closed his eyes with a sense of quiet anticipation.

the crash hadn't happened yet, but the landing was going to be soft. as you both drifted off, the silence of the apartment was no longer heavy — it was a promise of everything that was waiting for you both in the morning.

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throughout the dinner, each bite of the pasta led your thoughts straight to its chef. you found yourself staring at the fork, imagining how strikingly focused he must've looked while cooking, his sleeves probably rolled up to his elbows as his eyes focused on the boiling water. you pictured how his veined, steady fingers must've wrapped around the knife, the blade clicking against the wood as he fine-chopped the garlic. you wondered how his lips must've curled around the fork, tasting the sauce to ensure the balance of flavors was just right. you wondered, with a heart-stopping clarity, how those lips would feel on yours.

he had cooked this for you.

the thought alone was enough to make your throat go tight.

you were trying.

goddamnit — you were trying really hard.

to deviate your mind from his thoughts, to distract yourself from how he felt, how he looked, how he smiled, how he sat, how each fibre of your being couldn't resist him.

you remembered how his breath had stuttered — just once — when you were close enough to count his eyelashes. it was a tiny, fractured sound that made your own heart do a violent somersault.

you tried to focus on the saltiness of the parmesan, to read a book, to scroll through mindless videos, but your mind was a traitor. every path led back to lee minho. you found yourself tracing the edge of your own waist, wondering how his hands would feel if they found purchase there— if those long, steady fingers would dig into your skin, pulling you flush against him until there was no air left between you. you imagined the weight of him, the sheer presence of his body over yours, and the way he would sound whispering sweet nothings into your ear. you could almost hear it — that low, beautiful tone of his, vibrating against your skin, turning your name into a prayer.

the silence in the apartment was too loud now, haunted by the ghost of his laugh and the lingering scent of his laundry detergent on your couch. as you finally crawled into bed, the cool sheets felt like an insult compared to the warmth you’d touched only hours before.

—————

on the other side of the wall, minho was affected — to say the least.

as he went to throw his t-shirt in the washing machine, he couldn't help but recall how your hands felt on him. he stood in the dark of his laundry room, staring at the white fabric, but all he could see were your honey-brown eyes catching his. his mind replayed the moment your breath hitched as you realized your hands were on him — the way your fingers had flexed against his chest before you pulled away.

​oh, how he had come to love that expression on you.

flustered, with a side of something he couldn’t quite name — something that looked dangerously like longing, even if he didn't dare believe it.

the absence of your touch left his chest feeling strangely hollow and cold, as if you had stolen the heat right out of his skin. any other warmth — the steam from the shower, the weight of his blankets — felt thin and artificial in comparison to the searing memory of your palms. he found himself wondering, unintentionally, how your hands would have felt without the barrier of that wet cotton. he imagined your skin directly against his, the soft friction of your fingertips tracing the line of his collarbone without anything standing in the way.

​his mind drifted to how cozy you’d looked in your soft home shirt, the fabric hanging off you in a way that felt far too intimate for 'just neighbours.' he remembered the way you had bent down to greet joonie, your collarbone peeking out from the neckline — a pale, elegant curve that he suddenly wanted to trace with his lips. he had seen the way your shorts rode up your honey-toned thighs, a sight that had sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated heat through him. he’d caught himself wondering how those thighs would feel wrapped around his —

god — minho — get a grip

​he even remembered your hands on that soda can — the way the condensation had made your fingers damp and glistening as you held it. he’d wanted to take that hand, to feel that cool dampness against his own warm skin. he let out a jagged breath, leaning his forehead against the cool surface of the washer.

he was losing his fucking mind, and for the first time, he didn't even want to find it.

the morning came with a joy as it was your day off work. you blinked away the remnants of a dream involving a low voice whispering your name and proceeded to freshen up. as you moved to the kitchen to figure out what to make for breakfast, a sharp, frantic pounding shattered the quiet.

thump. thump. thump.

it wasn't the rhythmic, playful knock.

this was urgent.

you stumbled toward the door, your oversized shirt sliding off one shoulder as you pulled it open, still half-trapped in the haze of sleep. standing in front of you was lee minho, but the 'cool guy' from last night was replaced by something far more striking and chaotic.

​he was dressed in layers that looked both curated and rushed. a dark, structured blazer was thrown over a crisp white collared shirt, which sat open to reveal a vibrant, multi-colored striped sweater underneath — bands of teal, forest green, and mustard yellow breaking up the formality of his outer layers. a thin silver chain hung around his neck, the pendant catching the dim hallway light. his dark hair was damp and tousled, falling over his eyes in jagged streaks, and he was holding joonie against his chest like a lifeline.

the sheer sight of him in those layers was enough to make your brain short-circuit before you even processed his words. he looked like he had stepped out of a high-fashion editorial and into a full-blown panic. you were still processing his outfit when he spoke.

"i-i'm so sorry — an emergency came up at work and i need to leave urgently and my usual sitter cancelled last minute," he blurted out, his voice a low, hurried rasp. "i couldn't think of anyone other than you — could you watch him? just for today? i'll make it up to you, i promise."

he looked at you with a heavy, hesitant hope. he was still clutching joonie — the kitten looking entirely too comfortable against his expensive blazer — and you could see the slight tremor in his hands. he looked somewhat hopeful, but also genuinely scared of imposing on you first thing in the morning.

you leaned against the doorframe, the cool wood pressing against your back as you took him in. your oversized shirt slipped a fraction further off your shoulder, and you saw his gaze flicker down to the exposed skin before he forced his eyes back to yours, his jaw tightening.

the silence stretched for a heartbeat too long, the air between you thick with the memory of his breath on your skin.

"oh sure ! i would love to babysit joonie." you responded smiling at the little baby in his hand. "but i don't work for free, minho" a slow, teasing smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you crossed your arms. "and looking after a little terror on no notice? that sounds like a very high-tier job."

minho let out a short, relieved huff of a laugh, the tension in his shoulders dropping just an inch. the way he looked at you then — grateful and still a little bit mesmerized — was dangerous. and you loved it.

"name your price," he said, his voice dropping an octave as he stepped just a fraction closer. "anything. i'm desperate."

as he leaned in, the scent of his laundry detergent — the same one that had haunted your couch all night — hit you in a fresh, sharp wave. his eyes caught yours, dark and intense behind the jagged fringe of his damp hair, and you could feel your confident self slip up. the air between you, already charged from the night before, felt thick enough to choke on.

you looked from his desperate expression to the tiny, unsuspecting kitten in his arms, forcing yourself to stay grounded. you hummed, tapping a finger against your chin as you ruminated on the most 'expensive' thing you could ask for.

"hmm," you started, a slow, calculated smile spreading across your face. "i need joonie pictures and videos — for a whole week. new, old, anything. i just need to see him more, even if it's through my phone screen."

minho let out a short, genuine laugh in amusement, pleasantly surprised at your demand. the tension in his jaw relaxed into a grin that reached his eyes, making that sharp, editorial look of his soften into something dangerously charming.

"that's it? that's your high-tier price?" he teased, his voice still low and raspy. he reached into the pocket of his blazer, pulling out his phone with those same veined, steady fingers you’d been dreaming about. "i was expecting something much harder to give than a few digital files of a cat."

"hey! he's a lot more than just a cat," you exclaimed defensively, though the flutter in your chest betrayed your faux-indignation.

​he stepped even closer, until the tips of his shoes were almost touching yours, and held out his phone. "give me your number. i’ll start the payment plan as soon as i get time." he paused, his gaze lingering on your face as the gravity of the exchange settled between you. "you can also send me updates... and if you need me for anything he does. like if he gets into trouble, or if he starts acting up. just text me."

​the way he said just text me felt heavier than a simple request for cat updates. it was a bridge. an invitation.

as you took the device from him, your fingers brushed against his palm. the contact was brief, but it sent a sharp, familiar jolt of electricity straight up your arm, mirroring the way his breath had hitched in the kitchen. you typed your name into his contacts, your heart doing a violent somersault when you realized that, for the first time, you weren't just neighbours — you were a saved entry in his life.

"there," you said, handing it back, trying to keep your hand from shaking. "and don't think you can skip a day. i’ll be counting."

"i wouldn't dream of it," he murmured, his gaze lingering on your face for a second too long before he carefully handed joonie over to you. the transfer of the kitten required him to reach around you, his arms briefly framing your body, trapping you in the heat of his presence. "thank you — really."

and then he was gone, leaving you standing in your doorway with a confused kitten and a pulse that refused to slow down.

—————

okay

you were sure joonie was heaven-sent, because this baby was a literal angel.

​as minho’s footsteps finally faded down the hallway, you carried the kitten into the living room, feeling the soft, rhythmic thrum of his purr against your palms. you set him down on the couch, watching with a soft smile as he wobbled over to a plush cushion. his tiny claws immediately snagged on the tassels, and he began a valiant, clumsy battle with the fabric.

​"so, joonie, you're my baby for the day," you cooed, the sound of your own voice echoing in the suddenly quiet apartment. you felt a desperate urge to just squish him, to bury your face in his soft fur, but you held back. it was your first real long meeting, and you didn't want to scare the little guy off before the morning was even over.

​as you stood up to move along with your day, joonie decided he wasn't finished with you yet. he waddled off the couch, his tiny feet pitter-pattering against the floor as he followed you like a fluffy shadow. every time you stopped, he’d bump into your ankles, letting out a confused little meow before looking up at you with those wide, innocent eyes.

​you headed to the bedroom to change out of your night clothes. after pulling on a pair of soft shorts and an oversized hoodie, you turned around and burst into a fit of giggles. joonie had found your discarded t-shirt on the floor — the one minho had been staring at only minutes ago — and had crawled inside. he was currently a frantic, moving lump under the fabric, fighting for his life against the sleeve hole.

​you scrambled for your phone, snapping a quick, blurry picture of the lil guy before gently relieving him of the devious cotton. he emerged with his fur standing on end, looking indignant but adorable.

​"come here, lil one," you murmured, heading toward the kitchen.

​while you assembled a sandwich for yourself, you reached for the small bag of kitten food minho had pressed into your hand earlier. you measured it out into a ceramic bowl, the clicking of the kibble bringing joonie running.

​"here you go, let's have breakfast together."

​you settled onto the couch with your plate, and joonie plopped down near your feet, nibbling enthusiastically from his bowl. you watched him with a sense of peace you hadn't felt in weeks, later providing a separate bowl of water which he lapped up with focused intensity.

​"such a good baby, finishing all your food and drinking your water too — best kitten ever, hm?" you praised, lifting him up and placing him onto your lap.

​for the next hour, you tried to binge-watch your favorite show, but your eyes kept drifting down. joonie entertained himself by attacking your cushion, then shifted his focus to the silver bracelets on your wrist, and finally settled on batting at the hem of your shorts. all of a sudden, you realised that the movement had stopped.

​you looked down to find joonie with drooping eyes, his tiny head nodding as he struggled to stay awake. you swore your heart was about to burst, the sheer cuteness of it was physically painful.

​very slowly, you lifted the sleeping weight of him and headed to your bedroom. you tucked him into the center of your bed, right against the pillows that still carried the faint scent of your sleep, and draped a corner of the blanket over his small frame. the sight alone made you pout — he was a tiny, snoring puff of fur lost in the vastness of your sheets.

​​you took another quick photo, the lighting soft and intimate, your heart swooning over a sleeping joonie. he looked so tiny tucked into your pillows, a small stripe of gold and brown against the cream fabric of your bedding. leaving the kitten to take his nap, you carefully tiptoed out of the room, leaving the door ajar just enough to hear him if he woke up.

​moving back to the living room, you picked up your phone from the coffee table. your breath hitched when you saw two unread notifications waiting for you.

​[11:15 am]: i hope he's not giving you trouble. [11:16 am]: thanks a lot, again.

​

you stared at the screen for a moment, the black text against the white background feeling suddenly significant. he was in your phone now. his number was a part of your contact list, a digital tether connecting your lives beyond just shared walls and stolen glances.

​you proceeded to save his number, pondering upon the name to use. 'minho' felt too plain, too official. you wanted something that reflected the quiet, private way you had been observing him from afar. you recalled how you had always associated him with the numbers on his door — 0801.

​that was it.

you saved his number as 'zero eight zero one' — not numbers, but the words themselves. he wasn't a digit —  he was a sequence of letters, slowly entering your brain, your heart, your everything. it felt like a secret code, a way to keep him close without admitting just how much he’d already affected you.

​you texted back, albeit hesitantly, your thumbs hovering over the keyboard as you tried to sound casual.

​[11:22 am]: he's a sweetheart, no trouble at all.

[11:22 am]: just put him down for a nap.

​

you then attached the picture of joonie rolled up in the floral-patterned blanket, his little face barely peeking out from the folds. you couldn't help your lips from curling into a smile as you hit send. the 'delivered' status appeared instantly, and you found yourself holding your breath, wondering if he was currently under those bright studio lights, looking down at his screen to see his kitten in your bed. the thought of him seeing your pillows made a heat crawl up your neck that had nothing to do with the morning sun.

the typing bubbles danced for what felt like an eternity, appearing and disappearing as if he were catching himself, deleting and retyping his thoughts. finally, the phone vibrated in your palm, a sharp buzz that made your heart hammer against your ribs.

[11:25 am]: he looks far too comfortable there. [11:25 am]: i don't think i've ever seen him this peaceful.

you let out a soft huff of a laugh, but the next message came before you could even think of a witty reply. it was the kind of text that made the world around you go silent.

[11:26 am]: wish i could be there too.

the air in the room suddenly felt thin. it wasn't just about the cat anymore. the subtext wasn't even subtext — it was a direct hit. your mind immediately flashed back to the way he had looked at your door this morning, his eyes lingering on your shoulder, and the way he had framed your body when handing joonie over. he wasn't just talking about his apartment; he was talking about your bed, your pillows, and the quiet, intimate space you’d invited his kitten into.

you bit your lip, your cheeks heating up as you stared at the floral-patterned blanket in the photo. he was at work, and yet he was telling you — through a screen — that he’d rather be exactly where joonie was.

[11:28 am]: well, the spot is taken, for now.

he was playing a dangerous game, and surprisingly, you didn't mind playing it too. you looked at the name saved at the top of the screen — 'zero eight zero one' — and realized that tomorrow, those numbers wouldn't just be on a door. they’d be lighting up your screen with a debt he seemed more than happy to pay.

taglist

@joyracha @lynsbng @binniebb @b4echo @zosauce @yourghostneighbor @eyyyylucieeee @sweetheartforus @quokkahansung @minniebitesfr @nanaluizam @pineapple-burgah @moch3rii @leeknaurrrr @spiidergirlsworld @shiningnono @pixiiebutt @nougatjade @mylovchris @mieuracha @cchapssaltteok @mxmx09 @anni3lop101 @ncitywrld @rockstarkkami @wobblewobble822 @hnsbxby @g00dtimenotlongtim3 @pineapple-in-a-burgah @babythisisourcinema @starlostjisung @foxiebread @scarlettuce-lettuce @mara-luv1 @jiaaabbahng @unemployedcarat @caalcyon @hyunjinniemylove @moonylovesbiscuits @channlust @lilscast @sithskz @pbynsstuff @0felixsfreckles0 @taekwondoe @navyrec @iownachihuahua @changbin-lover @yerijaksel @gnabsirhcnetsua

you had your glasses perched on the bridge of your nose, an empty document open on your screen, and a cup of lukewarm ‘bean water’ sitting at your elbow. you were supposed to be working on the report for tomorrow’s meeting, but honestly, you had started praying for a supernatural force to intervene and type it for you. you couldn't concentrate for the life of you.

the cursor kept blinking on the blank white screen — a rhythmic, mocking motion — while your brain was occupied with a very specific human.

lee minho.

he was everywhere.

not physically — not at first — but he had successfully colonized your mind. he plagued your thoughts during the most mundane moments, his dialogues imprinted on your brain like a song you couldn’t stop humming.

your brain was filled with his thoughts.

thoughts like how strikingly good he looked in a simple black t-shirt that hugged his shoulders just right, or the way he had leaned against the doorframe with a lazy sort of grace, eyes focused solely on you while you played with joonie. but the thought that plagued you most was the precise moment he bit into the cookie you had made for him. you could still see the trace of chocolate on the edge of his lips and the way his gaze locked with yours — heavy and unreadable — as if he were tasting your intentions along with the sugar.

his voice was a permanent soundtrack now. you could hear the teasing lilt when he brought up the ‘bean water’ incident, the playful curiosity when he asked how your book ended, the low appreciative hum as he told you the cookies were delicious. and then there was the comforting, velvet tone of his voice when he wished you good night through the wall — a sound that had made your apartment feel dangerously intimate.

​with each action you performed, your brain found a way to bridge it back to him. your morning coffee wasn't just caffeine; now it was the beverage he mocked. a choco chip cookie wasn't just food; it was a reminder of his hands holding your container. as you headed to bed, the silence of the room seemed to echo with his whispered parting words.

this man had started to reside in your mind.

and you didn't mind it in the least.

​a sharp ping from a notification finally shattered the daydream. you jumped slightly, the spell broken, and checked the time. you had spent more than half the day spiraling into thoughts of a man who lived exactly one drywall away. with a sigh of frustration, you took a final swig of your cold coffee, tied your hair into a determined ponytail, and got down to completing the report.

​as the sun finally departed, casting long, bruised shadows across your desk, you clicked the ‘send’ button, emailing the report to your department head. after hours of internal turmoil, you were free. a small, treacherous part of you hoped you might run into him on the way home, even though you weren't entirely sure your heart could handle the physical reality of him after a day of mental obsession.

the commute home was a blur of neon lights and static noise, your thoughts looping back to the velvety tone of his voice. by the time you reached your floor and locked the door behind you, the apartment felt too quiet, the silence only highlighting the fact that he was probably just a few feet away, separated by nothing but brick and wallpaper.

you proceeded to change out of your work clothes, settling for a soft oversized t shirt, just the right amount of worn in. after a quick dinner, you put on your headphones, blasting a playlist that infused the energy you needed to finally clean up the day's mess.

you scrubbed the kitchen, did the dishes, and tied up the heavy trash bag. you headed to the end of the hallway, lightly swinging the bag to the heavy bass thrumming in your ears. you were completely immersed in your own world, the outside world muffled by the volume. the bag hit the bin with a hollow thud, and you rounded the corner to head back to your door just as the track peaked — 'it's time to bet-bet-bet, bet on what you want; 내-내-내일 없는 것처럼, 터뜨려 내 안의 dyna—'

thud

your head came in contact with a hard, warm surface. it wasn't the drywall. it was solid, radiating heat through a thin layer of fabric. as your eyes snapped up, you were met with a sight to behold.

lee minho stood there in a black compression shirt, a slightly sweaty sheen on his neck and chest, seemingly arriving home from the gym.

​your eyes subconsciously strayed below and —

oh. god.

​those thighs.

​he was wearing athletic shorts, and the sight of those strikingly thick, honeyed muscles gave you a plethora of unholy thoughts. a shiver ran up your spine that had nothing to do with the cool hallway air. the raw, physical power he usually hid under soft hoodies was suddenly on full display, and the air between you felt like it had been sucked out of the hallway.

​"are you okay ?" he asked. his voice was slightly gravelly, his chest rising and falling in a slow, controlled rhythm that matched the thumping of the music still leaking from your headphones. he looked down at you with a flicker of genuine concern, his eyes dark and observant.

​"y-yeah, i'm sorry," you managed to stammer, subconsciously stepping back to put some distance between your racing heart and his solid frame. he gave a small, curt nod — maybe a bit too quickly ? — and disappeared into his apartment.

minho leaned his back against the cool wood of his door, closing his eyes and trying to force his heart rate to settle. he had gone to the gym specifically to burn off the restless energy of thinking about you all day—a distraction that had clearly failed.

​your adorable, shy face, that rambling voice that always seemed to catch in your throat, and the way your muffled giggle echoed through the drywall; it was all imprinted on his brain. but he’d thought he could sweat you out of his system. yet here you were, literally crashing into him in the hallway.

​you looked soft and messy in your oversized t-shirt, smelling like vanilla and home, and for a split second when your forehead hit his chest, he’d almost reached out to catch you. his hands had twitched with the urge to keep you right there. but then he’d seen the way your eyes traveled down his legs, and the heat that flared in his gut was enough to make him flee. it was a strikingly dangerous kind of heat — the kind that told him he wasn't as in control as he liked to pretend.

he was losing his fucking mind and it was just thursday.

the weekend arrived, bringing a much-needed break from the office. you were in the middle of reorganizing your bookshelf, finally finding a place for the new stack of books you had ordered, when the bell suddenly chimed.

ding dong

you froze.

you weren't expecting anyone. you checked your reflection in the hallway mirror — hoping you didn't look as frazzled as you felt — and pulled the door open.

​there he was. the plague of your thoughts, standing in in the flesh. minho looked effortlessly handsome, nursing a sleepy joonie in one arm while his other hand gripped a plastic container. he looked caught between being amused by your startled expression and being strangely nervous about the mystery contents of the container.

​"hi, nice seeing you — again," you managed, your voice only slightly higher than usual. "and you too, lil baby," you added, reaching out to pet joonie’s soft head.

​as the kitten reveled in the attention, leaning into your touch, minho’s lips curled into a smile.

​"hello — is it really nice to see me?" he asked, his eyes dancing with mischief. "because from the muffled scream i heard through the wall last time, i was pretty sure you’d be running away the second i knocked."

​heat rushed to your cheeks. you pushed a stray hair behind your ear, wishing the floor would simply open up and swallow you whole. "uh, yeah — no. i mean, you just took me by surprise, that was all," you answered, praying he couldn't see the blush creeping up your neck.

​"that’s good to know then." he smiled, and you realized with a start that he was far too pretty for a human. "i actually made some aglio olio pasta, and i thought you would like some. consider it a peace offering for the cookies — which were delicious, by the way, if i forgot to mention it."

​"oh wow — thank you so much ! you literally solved my dinner crisis," you replied, taking the container. your fingers grazed his as the weight of the pasta shifted, and the brief contact felt like a static shock. "i'm glad the cookies passed the test. sadly, joonie couldn't have them." you looked back down at the kitten and started playing with his paws to avoid minho’s intense gaze.

"well, he certainly tried," minho said, his voice dropping into that low, velvet register that always seemed to vibrate right through you. "he spent half the night sniffing the air like he’d discovered a new religion."

​"you know," he started, rubbing the back of his neck, "it occurred to me that i'm about to hand off a homemade meal to someone whose name i don't even know. i’ve been calling you 'the cookie lady' in my head all day, which — to be honest — is a bit of a mouthful."

​you felt a genuine laugh bubble up, the tension breaking just enough for you to breathe. "the cookie lady ? i’'m almost flattered, i suppose."

​"i'm sure," he chuckled, the sound rich and near. "but seriously. i'm minho. lee minho. though i think you might have figured that out by now, considering you hadn't asked."

​"well i could see a new name in the entry register, and it didn't take too long to put two and two together," you shrugged amusedly, a slight smile on your face, "i'm y/n by the way, y/n y/l/n." you replied, the sound of your own name feeling strangely heavy in the quiet hallway.

​"y/n," he repeated. he said it slowly, the syllables rolling off his tongue in a way that made your heart do a nervous little stutter. he nodded once, as if filing it away in a very important folder in his mind. "well, y/n , it’s officially nice to meet you. properly, this time."

​​a heavy, charged silence settled over the threshold. the air was thick with the kind of electricity that only exists between two people who know they've been thinking about each other.

​​"um — would you like to come in ?" you offered hesitantly.

​minho hesitated for a heartbeat — his eyes flickered toward the interior of your home, then back to you, a smile hovering at the corners of his mouth. "ah, sure. thanks."

​you stepped sideways, holding the door open. as you shut it behind him, you felt a wave of gratitude that you had actually bothered to tidy up this morning.

minho's eyes roamed around your living room, taking in all details of your life spread in front of him. a few plants were placed on the window sill with tiny clay knick-knacks that seemed to be handmade. a book was placed on the coffee table, most probably the one that made you cry. a few paintings covered your walls, some done by you he guessed. your curtains were chiffon — a dusty yellow — and he could imagine your eyes glittering in the sunlight coming through them in the morning. the warm lights, the crocheted wall hanging, the mosaic coasters on the table — all gave life to the apartment.

it was full of personality — your personality.

and he loved it.

"those clay animals look really cute." minho remarked, a smile on his face as he pointed towards the window sill, "i'll even go on to claim that you made that one keeping joonie in mind, because how are they exactly the same ?"

you laughed as you observed the uncanny similarity between the clay kitten and the one blinking its beady eyes in minho's arms. "well — that's a pretty valid claim."

you placed the container on the table and asked, "would you like something to drink ? and no — i don't just survive on bean water." you added with a smile and mock defensiveness.

the statement earned you a laugh out of minho and you couldn't help but smile, the sound music to your ears. "okay okay", he raised his free hand in a surrender motion, " i take my bean water statement back — what options do you have then, y/n ?"

​"well — i have diet coke, chocolate milk, aaaaaand mango juice."

his voice was suddenly much nearer. you turned from the fridge to find him standing right at the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame. the space in the kitchen felt strikingly small with him in it. you pulled out two cans and ushered him back to the living room. he sat on the couch, joonie curling onto his lap immediately. you sat in the chair nearby, popping your can open.

your eyes were glued to his lips as they touched the aluminum for a sip. as his adam's apple bobbed, your thoughts strayed right back to that compression shirt in the hallway. you had to physically shake your head to stay present.

​suddenly, joonie decided he was done being a sleepy baby, eyes fluttering open as they landed on the can in minho's hand. before anyone could react, the kitten lunged.

​splash.

the diet coke exploded onto minho’s white t-shirt. the can clattered to the floor, rolling away as joonie sat back, blinking innocently. minho stood up with a start, the thin fabric of his shirt now soaked and clinging to his skin.

​without thinking, you rushed toward him with a handful of tissues, frantically dabbing at the dark splash on his white shirt. it was only when you felt the firm, warm rise and fall of his chest beneath your palm that the world seemed to stop.

​you were touching him.

​the damp fabric clung to his skin, making the contact feel strikingly intimate, and your breath caught in your throat as you realized how close you were. you looked up, only to find his gaze already locked with yours. your faces were uncannily close — so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, so close you could see the slight tremor in his own breath. for a heartbeat, neither of you moved — the only thing between you was the frantic thrumming of your heart and the weight of your hand against his chest.

​"oh-ohh, h-here are some — uh — tissues," you stammered, finally snapping out of the trance. you stepped back so fast you nearly tripped, shoving the damp tissues into his hands. your palm felt like it was on fire, the sensation of his warmth branded into your skin.

minho's first thought was that he could get used to the feeling of your hands on him.

good lord, he had to get a grip on himself — you were just trying to be nice.

jesus christ —

breathe minho breathe.

stay. fucking. calm.

he could still feel the phantom pressure of your fingers on his chest, and it was taking every ounce of his willpower not to catch your wrist and keep your hand there. a shiver ran up his spine as he looked at you, frazzled and blushing.

he could get used to this.

he could get used to you.

the way you looked right now, with your eyes wide and your lips parted, was more dangerous than any gym workout.

"a-ah, thanks," he replied, accepting the tissues, feeling the sudden loss of your warmth. "i'll get back, actually. need to clean up, plus this naughty guy needs his actual meal."

he grabbed joonie and headed for the door, his movements slightly rushed. you followed him, whispering a final thank you for the pasta. as his door clicked shut, the silence in your apartment felt ten times louder.

you leaned against your door, staring at the floor. the tension was no longer just a joke or a thin-walled coincidence. it was a physical weight, a striking reality that both of you were carrying back into your separate rooms.

in the flat beside yours, minho peeled off his soaked shirt and tossed it into the hamper. he looked at his reflection in the mirror, his chest still buzzing from where you had touched him.

tonight, the walls between 0801 and 0802 felt thinner than ever, and for the first time, neither of you wanted them to be there at all.

taglist

@joyracha @lynsbng @binniebb @b4echo @zosauce @yourghostneighbor @eyyyylucieeee @sweetheartforus @quokkahansung @minniebitesfr @nanaluizam @pineapple-burgah @moch3rii @leeknaurrrr @spiidergirlsworld @shiningnono @pixiiebutt @nougatjade @mylovchris @mieuracha @cchapssaltteok @mxmx09 @anni3lop101 @ncitywrld @rockstarkkami @wobblewobble822 @hnsbxby @g00dtimenotlongtim3 @pineapple-in-a-burgah @babythisisourcinema @starlostjisung @foxiebread @scarlettuce-lettuce @mara-luv1 @jiaaabbahng @unemployedcarat @caalcyon @hyunjinniemylove @channlust @lilscast @taekwondoe @navyrec

you were returning from your morning walk around the block, the fresh air filling your lungs as it gave you a momentary rush of dopamine. it was a rare morning where the city felt quiet, the usual hum of traffic replaced by the rhythmic sound of your sneakers hitting the pavement.

you entered the apartment complex, heading towards the lobby table to put your entry in the register.

as you signed your name, your eyes instinctively landed on the entry directly above yours, signed in front of flat no. 0801.

lee minho

lee minho

you stared at the name for a second longer than necessary.

did the name have a nice feel to it, or was it just you?

that was his name — the man living next door to you.

the entry in the register meant he was at home right now, likely tucked away behind the door only inches from yours. that fact meant nothing, obviously. it shouldn't have made your pulse jump, but as you turned toward the lift, you couldn't help but wonder what he was doing behind that door. was he finally done unpacking all those ceiling-high boxes ? was his hair still disheveled in that pretty, effortless way ? was he settling in well, or was he just as overwhelmed as he looked on friday ?

you reached your flat and entered, the beep of the electronic lock echoing in the hallway. as you were changing out of your tracksuit, hanging your jacket behind the door, a voice floated through the walls. the insulation in this building was good, but not good enough to drown out a man on a mission.

"will you come here for once?"

the voice was unmistakably his — but carrying a distinct note of exasperated affection.

"i literally cooked your favourite food and you're not even willing to look at it?" he sighed softly.

a small laugh left your throat as you stood frozen in your living room, listening to the domestic drama unfolding next door. you heard more dialogue — low murmurs that you couldn't quite catch — followed by the distinct, frantic skitter-skitter of soft padding sounds. the picky eater was probably dashing around the house on his little feet in hopes of escaping from the food and its persistent chef.

you could almost picture minho’s steps following the kitten, his tall frame dodging half-unpacked boxes as he chased a ball of grey fluff with a bowl in his hand.

another whiney purr vibrated through the vent. maybe after some convincing, the kitten had tried the food but didn't like it. you heard minho sigh again, a heavy sound of someone resigning to the fact that this baby was absolutely not willing to give in.

a couple of days later, you were home on a saturday evening, planning to enjoy the weekend with a pizza and some episodes of your favourite anime. as you opened the door to retrieve your pizza takeout, you could hear a rhythm emanating from the flat beside yours. moving back inside, you couldn't refrain from your attention deviating to the sound.

someone was singing.

lee minho was singing.

and it was the epitome of beauty. the notes flowed into the air, tugging at your heartstrings as he sang his heart out. it felt freeing, like the world had him tied down but the music liberated him. his voice was a gentle mix of angelic and a slight, honeyed rasp that made the hair on your arms stand up. the anime sat forgotten and the pizza grew cold as you were enamored with the way the words left his lips. you couldn't see him, but your imagination gave you a gripping view of him — head tilted back, neck veins straining as the music flowed through his soul.

you didn't know this would become the sound you craved the most. you looked up the song and added it to your playlist before you even took your first bite of pizza.

what you didn't know was that the walls worked both ways.

on the other side, minho was leaning against his kitchen counter, nursing a glass of water after finally giving up on the kitten's lunch. the silence of his new apartment was usually a comfort, but lately, he found himself tilting his head toward the wall shared with 0802.

he had heard you, too.

it started with the sound of a playlist you liked to sing along to while getting ready — your voice filled with a kind of bright energy that made him lean back against the drywall just to feel the vibration. you were actually singing one of his favourite songs, the one he had just been singing a couple of days ago.

but the incident that truly piqued his interest happened just yesterday.

he had been struggling with a heavy bookshelf, a string of curses falling from his lips as he realized he had put the top panel on backward. through the wall, he heard a sudden, loud thump, followed by your voice. you weren't talking to anyone — you were talking to yourself — a habit he found strangely endearing.

"oh, brilliant — just fucking brilliant, y/n. why use a coaster when you can just see if the coffee can defy gravity?" a frustrated groan followed, and then the sound of frantic scrubbing. "i'm a professional adult. i definitely don't want to cry over a mug. nope. even if it was my favourite pink one. oh god — the rug is stained too ?" you unconsciously whined, "no no, be strong. it's just — uh — bean water."

minho had frozen, a slow smirk spreading across his face. he’d stood there in the middle of his messy living room, listening to you lecture yourself about coffee stains, and for a second, the stress of the move evaporated. you were just as chaotic as he was, hidden behind that polished corporate look he’d seen at the lift.

he found himself wanting to see that side of you in person.

then, there was the moment he heard you reading. he had been sitting on his bed, joonie finally snoozing on his lap, when he heard a muffled, rhythmic sound. he went still, head tilting toward the wall. were you crying? his hand instinctively moved toward the wall, fingers hovering over the surface as if he could offer some sort of silent comfort. he felt a sudden, sharp spike of alarm — until he heard your voice break through the sniffles.

"she is dead ? HER ? OUT OF ALL THE GODDAMN CHARACTERS ? i'll yeet this book out of the window i swear to god — UGH"

minho couldn't help but laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his head snapped back, startling joonie. you were crying over a book character like you'd lost a close friend.

he found it ridiculous.

no — he found it endearing.

his neighbour was one interesting woman.

a week passed in a similar fashion. you would hear the new neighbour and his kitten through the shared wall — the occasional meow, the heavy thud of a box being moved, the sound of a door closing — but you hadn't seen them again.

and honestly? you were missing the little guy. you told yourself it was just the kitten, of course. you had absolutely no intention of tracing that jawline with your eyes again, or looking for the slight, teasing smirk on his face. none at all.

so, on the weekend, you decided to be 'neighbourly.'

you decided to bake.

the scent of vanilla and melting chocolate filled your kitchen as you pulled a tray of cookies from the oven. in your head, you justified it — you just wanted to meet the adorable little guy again. as you let them cool, you could hear faint sounds from 0801 indicating they were present.

you took a deep breath, smoothing down your casual clothes and hoping you wouldn't get rejected. you hoped they weren't allergic to something you'd put in them; the last thing you wanted was to give your handsome neighbour an allergic reaction on your second meeting. you packed the cookies carefully into a tupperware container and headed into the hallway.

ding dong.

you could sense immediate movement. small paws sounded against the wood flooring, the scratching sounds getting closer to the door with every second.

"joonie, you don't have to run to the door to greet everyone! you scared me shitless when you ran out the day we moved in, we don't want a repeat, do we?"

you stifled a laugh at the familiar tone of his scolding. you stood there, nervously patting your hair down as your fingers started drumming a restless beat against the tupperware. the tiny plastic drums echoed in the quiet hallway as you waited, feeling a mix of half-nervous, half-excited energy buzzing in your chest.

the door swiveled open, and the much-awaited ball of fur came at you instantly, half-tumbling and half-running into the hallway. your heart was a puddle on the floor.

"hi baby!" you immediately sat on your haunches, dropping your guard as the kitten began sniffing your shoes. for a solid minute, the hallway belonged only to you and the ball of fur. it was only when you felt the weight of a gaze from above that you remembered you weren't alone. your eyes traveled up, finally acknowledging the man leaning casually against the doorframe.

he was watching you with an expression that was half-amused and half-surprised. up close, the sharpness of his features was even more striking — the kind of lethal clarity that made you forget your own name for a second. he was dressed down in a simple charcoal tee that hung loosely off his shoulders, his dark hair still slightly damp and clinging to his forehead as if he’d just stepped out of a shower.

the scent of clean laundry and cedarwood drifted from him, filling the small space between you as you slowly stood up to meet his height. his eyes tracked your every move, intense and unblinking.

"what's his name?" you asked, your voice coming out a little breathier than you intended.

minho was amused, to say the least. he hadn't expected to see the woman from the hallway so soon, though it was inevitable since you were quite literally neighbours.

his eyes definitely hadn't strayed to your shorts-clad legs, or the plush thighs that had been hidden in those stiff work trousers the first time he saw you. his heart definitely didn't flutter — not even a tad bit — when you smiled at his kitten with eyes filled with genuine love. it was normal — it was just because you liked his kitten.

you stood up slowly, your face heating up as you realized you’d been staring a second too long at the damp strands of hair sticking to his forehead. he didn't look away either; instead, he tracked your movement with a quiet, observant intensity that made the hallway feel five degrees hotter.

he cleared his throat, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he was trying to decide whether to tease you or keep up the cool facade.

"he's joon," he offered, "but he does seem to love 'joonie' more."

a giggle slipped from you before you could stop it. it was a light, honest sound, and minho suddenly found himself wanting to hear it again.

"joonieee — such a cute name for a cute baby," you cooed. you reached out, letting the kitten bat at your fingers for a solid two minutes. joon was in heaven, rolling onto his back and showing his tiny belly while you showered him with the attention minho had clearly been trying to give him all morning.

suddenly, you were reminded of the excuse you had conjured up to be here. the reality of the situation hit you—you were sitting on the floor of a hallway, playing with a stranger's cat while he watched you like you were a particularly interesting museum exhibit.

you took a breath, finally standing up to properly converse with the man leaning on the door. he looked like this was the most amusing thing he had seen all week.

"oh — i made some welcome cookies," you said, holding out the tupperware. "i mean, they're not welcome cookies — they're choco-chip , but they are to welcome you. though i hope you're not allergic to chocolate, or dairy, or gluten, because i'd hate to kill you just when you moved in."

minho’s smirk widened as you continued to speak, your eyes darting everywhere but his.

"and if i did," you rambled, your voice speeding up, "then i pretty much don't have an alibi, so i'll definitely be done for. and if you're dead then who would care for this little guy? he would be — shit, i'm rambling. i'm sorry."

you stopped, your face heating up to a bright crimson. minho just looked at the cookies, then back at you, his eyes glinting with a challenge.

"thanks," he said, reaching out to take the container. "i'll risk the allergy. though if i do go down, i'm telling the paramedics it was the bossy neighbour from 0802."

you expected him to nod and head into the flat as with your previous encounter but apparently, he had different plans. minho opened the box right in front of you and took a cookie out. he glanced at it then looked you in the eyes and bit into it.

"well, i’m not dead yet. but i think i might need a glass of milk to be sure. do you have any, or you just survive on 'bean water' ?"

oh. my. god.

it totally slipped your mind that if the walls were thin, maybe, just maybe, he could hear you too.

well, apparently he had and he had heard the goddamn coffee crashout too.

you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment, mumbling a "good luck with finding the milk" and ran into your flat, slamming the door shut. you dove onto your bed, burying your face in a pillow to let out a long, muffled scream of pure embarrassment.

you heard him laugh through the wall. not a loud laugh, but a low, vibrating huff that told you he had heard every bit of your muffled panic. you froze, your breath hitching as you stayed perfectly still, praying for the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

then, his voice drifted through the drywall — clearer than before, as if he had moved closer, maybe even leaning his forehead against the very spot where yours was buried in the pillow.

"you know, 0802," he started, his voice a low, honeyed rumble that felt far too close for comfort. "if you're going to scream into your pillow every time i tease you, you're going to have a very long, very loud year ahead of you."

you felt the heat crawl up your neck as you bit your lip, unable to move.

"the cookies are delicious, by the way" he added, a playful lilt in his tone. "definitely worth the risk of a slow, chocolate-induced death. also don't go yeeting the book out of the window just yet — i still need to know how it ends."

a small, involuntary giggle escaped you, muffled by the fabric of your pillowcase. it was ridiculous, and you were still mortified, but the knot of anxiety in your chest loosened just a fraction. he was still there, leaning against the other side of your sanctuary, making the silence between his words feel like a conversation of its own.

"goodnight, neighbour," he whispered.

his voice was so low it was barely a sound, yet the vibration hummed through the wood and straight into your bones, settling somewhere deep in your chest.

you took a breath, your lips brushing the pillow as you whispered back, "goodnight, 0801."

you stayed there for a long time afterward, staring at the beige paint and listening to the faint, quiet rustle of him finally moving away from the wall. the silence that followed felt heavy, charged with the knowledge that only a few inches of plaster separated your lives.

suddenly, the wall between you felt dangerously thin.

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the day had been a rare, slow-motion train wreck. usually, you prided yourself on your efficiency — you were the type to have your inbox at zero by noon and a 6:30 p.m. date with a murder mystery and a bowl of ramen. but today, the universe had other plans. by the time you finally stepped away from your desk, your brain felt like it had been put through a paper shredder. every 'quick' meeting had evolved into a two-hour deep dive into nothingness. if you closed your eyes, you could still see the green gridlines of an excel spreadsheet burnt into your retinas.

with a heavy work bag digging into one shoulder and a laptop bag clutched in your hand, you finally entered the apartment complex. the air conditioning in the lobby hit you like a blessing, cutting through the humid layers of the city you had been carrying all day.

moving to seoul for your job in finance five years ago was a decision you never regretted. if you were willing to hustle, the city welcomed you with open arms; of course, it comes with its own cons — the endless sea of commuters and the pressure to always be on — but you had managed to formulate your life just as you liked it. you lived in a safe area, not so quiet that your thoughts echoed, but not so loud that they were drowned out either. you had saved vehemently for two years to buy a flat in this specific complex. the architecture was a dream — white stone interiors and soft ambient lighting. elegant potted plants placed along the entryway made the air smell more like floral and natural fragrances than the noxious fumes generally permeating the city.

"good evening mr. shin, hope your day went well !" you greeted the guard. he was a sweet 60 year old man, and you had developed a special bond with him. you still remembered the day you moved in, struggling with a massive floor lamp, and he had wordlessly taken the other end of the box and guided you to the lift with a soft smile. over the years, he had become a warm fatherly figure in your life.

the wrinkles around his eyes creased deeply as he offered the same soft smile. "good evening to you too, ms. y/l/n. looks like work was tough today."

you let out a long sigh, nodding as you adjusted the slipping strap of your bag. "ah yes, i can't wait to just.... cease to exist for a few hours. remember to drink some water okay ? it's way too hot out there for you to be sitting here all day."

mr. shin nodded, pointing proudly to the water bottle on his table — the one you had gifted him a while back because you noticed he never had a drink nearby. "i always keep this bottle with me, don't you worry ! have a great evening, now. get some rest."

you smiled back, the interaction giving you just enough energy to make it to the lift. as the doors closed, you rolled your sleeves up to your elbows, unbuttoned the top button of your shirt, and let out a breath you felt like you had been holding since 9:00 am. you leaned your head against the cool metal wall, closing your eyes and just letting the hum of the lift vibrate through your skull.

the lift dinged.

8th floor.

you moved towards your apartment, half-imagining your bed and that warm bowl of noodles you’d been craving since lunch. as you reached into your purse, fingers scrambling for your key card, you saw it.

a blur of grey in your peripheral vision.

you stopped mid-motion, key card forgotten. there, sitting right in the middle of your doormat, was the most adorable creature you had ever seen.

a dark grey kitten.

one look and you were absolutely swooning. all the day's stress — the deadlines, the emails, the spreadsheet — it all vanished. the kitten padded softly over the bristles of the mat, looking confused, his little head tilting as he tried to figure out where he was.

without a second thought, you kicked off your shoes and tapped your key card, pushing the door open just wide enough to toss your bags onto the entryway chair. you didn’t even make it inside before you were spinning back around, dropping to a crouch to meet him at eye level.

in the three seconds your back was turned, the kitten had made a move. he had somehow managed to get himself halfway inside your discarded shoe. he looked like he had found his new home, like he wanted to live the rest of his life right there in that leather loafer. his tiny hind legs were sticking out, wiggling as he tried to burrow deeper.

"is this your new home ?" you couldn't help but coo, slowly reaching out to pet him, your fingers ghosting over his fluffy little head. he stared up at you with beady, glittering eyes — wide and curious. but as he tried to shift, he realized he was a bit stuck. the shoe was a tight fit, and he started to look a little uncomfortable, his tiny paws scrabbling against the leather to find a way out.

"oh, hold on, let me help you," you murmured, your heart melting into a puddle on the hallway floor.

you carefully reached in and pulled him out of the shoe, scooping him into your arms. you tucked him against your chest, and the second he felt your warmth, he stopped squirming. he cuddled right up to you, his tiny heart beating against your arm in a fast, rhythmic drum. you started stroking his fur, and his eyes began drooping. he was settling in for a nap right there on your arm, and you were just looking down at him, adoring him, admiring every tiny whisker and the way his ears twitched in his sleep.

minho was panicking. just slightly. but yes, definitely panicking.

moving into the new apartment had been wreaking absolute havoc on his sanity. he had originally planned for a methodical sunday move, but an unexpected appointment had forced him to shift the entire operation to a friday. now, instead of being settled, he was living in a half-unpacked mess at 8:00pm, his timeline completely in tatters.

cardboard boxes were piled up ceiling high, forming a maze he hadn't quite figured out yet. tape dispensers were lost, the kitchen was a disaster, and he had been so busy sorting through joonie's stuff that he had completely lost track of time.

and he’d lost track of the kitten.

he suddenly realized the apartment was way too quiet. he hadn't felt a tiny tail brush against his ankles or heard the sound of claws on cardboard in way too long.

he called out the name, his voice echoing against the empty walls. he looked under the fridge, his heart starting to race. he flipped over empty cardboard boxes, checking the closets, checking behind the heavy curtains. his pulse was thumping in his ears because this was a new place — joonie didn't know the layout, didn't know which corners were safe.

and then, minho saw the front door. it wasn't fully latched. the movers must have left it ajar when they brought in the last of the furniture.

"please don't be outside," he muttered to himself, a cold sweat breaking out on his neck.

he rushed out into the hallway, his gaze darting toward the moving boxes piled up near his door. he started shifting them, checking if joonie was hiding in the shadows of the crates, his mind playing out every nightmare scenario of the kitten finding the stairs or the lift.

just then a sweet cooing voice fell into his ears.

"aw — you're such a sweet baby, hm ? wanna sleep ? sleepy baby, it’s okay. have a good sleep, hm ?"

minho’s head whipped around.

he saw a woman sitting on the floor right near his apartment door. she looked like she had just come back from a long shift — shirt and trousers — but she was currently occupied. joonie was almost completely asleep in her lap, cuddling her arm like he had known her his whole life. he was a ball of grey fluff in her arms, looking more content than he’d been all day.

minho stood there for a second, half-relieved that he had found joon and half-awkward.

how do you even ask for your own kitten back when he looks that peaceful in a stranger's arms?

he stepped closer and cleared his throat, the sound bouncing off the walls of the corridor.

"hush — he is sleeping," you whispered, instinctively, eyes still locked on the tiny angel in your arms.

minho froze.

did she just hush him ?

a little spark of amusement hit him, cutting through the leftover panic.

she was kind of bossy.

and he kind of liked it.

"as much as he looks comfortable," minho replied, his voice a bit dry, a bit teasing, "i would rather have him sleep in his own bed than in the middle of the hallway. i'm not sure the hallway carpet is the best for his back."

your eyes snapped up to the source of the sound.

the brown hair was the first thing that hit you — it caught the hallway lights just right, messy in a way that looked like he had been running his hands through it in stress all day. then you saw his face. his features were sharp, almost feline, with eyes that watched you with a mix of relief and a hint of something else you couldn't quite place. he was wearing an oversized black hoodie with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing lean, toned forearms that looked like they’d spent the day lifting heavy furniture. he looked effortlessly good for someone currently living out of boxes, which felt slightly unfair.

"oh — ohh! yeah, my bad — here, you go," you stuttered, feeling the heat rise to your face. you felt like such a dork. you had just bossed around a man while holding his cat hostage on the floor.

he nodded, stepping closer and extending his arms forward to take the kitten. you stood up slowly, your legs a bit wobbly from crouching so long, and carefully handed the tiny, warm weight over to him.

as he reached for joonie, his arm grazed yours.

it was a tiny touch — just a second of skin on skin — but it sent a sharp, unexpected jolt through you. you weren't the type to get flustered, and you certainly weren't looking for a 'moment' with a stranger. you were just tired, you told yourself. that was all.

"thanks," he muttered. he didn't say much else, just turned around and went into flat 0801 with the kitten tucked securely against his chest.

minho shut the door and immediately let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. he tried to walk further into the living room and promptly stumbled into an empty box he’d thrown haphazardly while he was searching for joonie.

"dammit," he huffed, kicking the box aside.

he moved across the messy room to the only corner that was actually set up in the entire house. joonie’s corner.

had he figured out where he would sleep ? no.

was his own life unpacked out of the bazillion boxes towering over him ? no.

but had joonie's bed been arranged with the little sheets, his tiny pillow and all his toys ? yes.

priorities.

he put joonie into the bed gently, watching the kitten curl into a ball and let out a soft purr.

"you had to go sleep in a pretty girl's lap, huh ?" he whispered, his voice low and a bit gravelly.

he paused, the word echoing in his head.

pretty ? yeah, she was.

even with the 'long day at the office' look, she had a certain glow that made his chest feel a little tight. it was a bit suspicious how quickly he had noticed that, but he blamed it on the moving-day adrenaline.

on the other side of the wall, you were standing in your entryway, staring at your own closed door. you looked out the peephole and saw the number of moving boxes still piled up next door.

the mystery kitten owner had disappeared into flat 0801.

yours was 0802.

he went into the flat beside yours.

he was your new neighbour ?

"well," you whispered to yourself, the silence of your apartment feeling a little less empty than usual. "guess i'll be meeting him again."

the kitten, you meant.

obviously.

taglist

@joyracha @lynsbng @binniebb @b4echo @zosauce @yourghostneighbor @eyyyylucieeee @sweetheartforus @quokkahansung @minniebitesfr @nanaluizam @pineapple-burgah @moch3rii @leeknaurrrr @spiidergirlsworld @shiningnono @pixiiebutt @nougatjade @mylovchris @mieuracha @cchapssaltteok @mxmx09 @anni3lop101 @ncitywrld @rockstarkkami @wobblewobble822 @hnsbxby