rubyjane.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

guilt is a strange thing. it doesn’t hit you all at once. instead, it lingers, creeping in slowly until it’s everywhere — woven into the fabric of your thoughts.

for the last few days, you’ve done everything you can to not think about what happened; convinced yourself that if you kept your head down, stuck to your routine and ignored the teasing from your friends, it would eventually fade into the background, becoming nothing more than a weird, blurry memory.

but today — wednesday — the weight of it all finally crashes down on you like a tidal wave.

and the reality of the situation…the one you’ve been desperately trying to ignore, finally catches up to you when you see them together; much closer in person.

karina is standing at the edge of the field, her arms folded as she watches jaewook jog towards her, sweat-drenched but still grinning. she doesn’t move as he reaches her, only tilting her head up, that same unreadable expression on her face.

but then he’s slipping an arm around her waist, pulling her in, and she smiles: soft, familiar, like this is second nature.

you tell yourself to look away; you don’t.

instead, you watch as he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips, one that she doesn’t hesitate to return with the kind of ease that comes from loving someone — from knowing them.

and why wouldn’t it be easy?

she’s his. watching it, you feel like something inside you splinters.

it isn’t jealousy, at least not in the way people usually mean. it’s not that you want what he has.

it’s more the fact that you shouldn’t have been anywhere near this situation to begin with. this isn’t you. you don’t do messy. you don’t even do relationships.

the last one you had was in high school with a girl named yeji, and even that had been doomed from the start. she had wanted more: more time, more emotions, more of you…but you had never been able to give her that. you were distant, unwilling to let yourself get swept up in anything that required vulnerability and eventually, she stopped asking.

the breakup had been mutual, clean, painless.

“you’re hard to love, aren’t you?” was the last thing she said before closing your chapter together.

that’s the kind of person you are. you keep things simple. controlled. you don’t let emotions dictate your choices.

but somehow, you’ve ended up here, tangled in something so far from simple that it makes your skin itch.

“y/n, please get giselle,” ryujin’s whine pulls you out of your trance, her head hanging out of the passenger window. “we don’t have all day!”

“we do have all day,” yunjin corrects from the backseat, stretching her arms. “but we’d rather waste it inside the house, not out here.”

you roll your eyes, arms crossed as you lean against the door. “yes, yes, i’ll go get her.”

giselle, god bless her soul, has never had a sense of urgency. she does everything at her own pace, stretching time like it exists solely for her convenience.

you’ve lost count of how many times she’s been the last one ready, the last one out the door, or the last one to finish a meal when everyone else is already standing.

and today, as you stand there watching her casually chatting away, you really don’t have the patience for it.

“giselle,” you call out, striding toward them with a scowl. “hurry the fuck up or i’m leaving you behind — the girls are getting pissy.”

“relax,” giselle sighs, waving a dismissive hand. “i was just about to —”

“looking good today,” minjeong interrupts smoothly and your brain short-circuits. “who for?”

for a second, you don’t even register the words, too caught off guard by the fact that she of all people is saying them.

warmth crawls up your neck and you internally curse yourself for it. you should not be flustered, but you are. “uh…thanks, sure as hell for nobody.”

“aw,” ningning teases, grinning. “you blushing?”

“shut up,” you mutter, glaring at her.

she only laughs, clearly enjoying this. “so, excited for dinner?”

you groan, rubbing your temples. “ningning —”

“what?” she smirks while pushing your buttons more. “it’s a date —”

“it is not a date,” you cut her off sharply. “karina literally has a boyfriend — who, by the way, is kissing her in front of everyone right now.” you motion toward the field where, sure enough, jaewook and karina are still wrapped up in each other.

ningning barely spares them a glance before shrugging. “huh. yeah, i guess that does complicate things.”

“you guess?” you grumble at her. “it’s very much complicated. so no, i am not excited for dinner.”

giselle sighs dramatically, finally pulling herself away from the conversation. “alright, alright, we’ll go before y/n here kills you both.”

“thank you,” you mutter, head low. “yunjin and ryujin are getting hangry and if we don’t leave now, they’ll probably kill us both.”

before you can even turn on your heel to leave, giselle is already yelling out for karina’s name. you whip around in horror, eyes widening as you watch karina and her boyfriend turn toward the sound, surprise flickering across her face when she sees you standing there.

fuck.

she waves at giselle first, but then her gaze locks onto you. and when you look at jaewook, your heart skips a beat because he nods at you before facing forward again; a slight acknowledgment.

“he knows,” you point out. “deadass.”

you don’t wave back at her, too caught up in the way she’s looking at you, like she’s actually embarrassed to see you there.

ningning, the instigator, steps on your foot. “wave,” she hisses under her breath.

“i hate you,” you whisper back, but you force yourself to lift a hand in the most awkward, half-hearted wave of your life.

karina’s lips twitch, amusement flickering across her face. you immediately turn away.

“what is your deal?” you growl at ningning, dragging your feet toward the car.

“act normal,” minjeong chuckles, shaking her head. “it’s weird when you don’t.”

giselle starts hugging them goodbyes like she isn’t seeing them tonight at their dorm — to probably make an entertainment out of your suffering.

as you reach the car, yunjin and ryujin immediately start yelling in relief. “fucking finally!”

“sorry babies,” giselle puckers her lips when she clicks her seatbelts on, settling into the car. “ready.”

the drive back to the dorm is quiet, which is unusual, because when yunjin and ryujin are in a car together, silence is normally impossible.

but this isn’t the usual car ride filled with dumb arguments about what to eat or what song to play next. they all know.

you’re lost in your own head, spiralling in thoughts you can’t put into words — stuck in a loop of guilt and confusion that’s been building up since saturday night.

keeping your eyes on the road, the buildings blur past, feeling the weight of something heavy settle in your chest. you don’t want to talk about it, but at the same time, it’s suffocating, pressing against your ribs, demanding to be let out.

giselle must notice, because after a few minutes, she reaches over from the passenger seat, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“it’s gonna be okay,” she says softly.

for the first time in days, there’s no teasing in her voice, no amusement in her expression. just quiet reassurance.

you exhale slowly, gripping the fabric of your jeans, fingers tightening around the material as you finally let it out. “i feel guilty.”

yunjin turns in her seat, looking at you through the rearview mirror. “guilty?”

“because karina cheated on jaewook with me,” you mumble out, the words tasting wrong on your tongue. “and now we’re all acting like he’s not in the picture.”

there’s a beat of silence, before ryujin sighs. “y/n, that’s not on you.”

“but —”

“you were both drunk,” yunjin cuts in, voice firm but gentle. “whatever happened, you weren’t thinking straight. and you definitely weren’t the one in a relationship.”

“yeah,” ryujin adds. “karina’s a big girl. she made her own decisions. that’s not something you should be carrying.”

you shake your head, looking down at your hands. “but i let it happen.”

“you let what happen?” giselle frowns. “existing in the same bed as her while being borderline blackout drunk?”

you let out a dry laugh, but it dies quickly. “it’s not just that.”

“then what is it?” yunjin asks, watching you closely.

you hesitate. you don’t know how to explain it —not in a way that makes sense. but the guilt isn’t just about the sex, or the fact that it happened at all.

it’s merely the fact that now, karina is acting like she wants to be in your life. like she’s fine with it; like this is normal.

and the worst part?

a small, selfish part of you wants to believe her. because if she’s okay with it, then maybe — maybe — you don’t have to carry all of this weight on your own.

“i don’t know,” you admit finally, running a hand over your face. “it just feels…wrong. like i should stop this before it gets worse.”

giselle hums, tilting her head. “but do you want to stop it?”

you should.

you say nothing.

“look,” ryujin says, shifting in her seat. “you don’t have to overthink this. you don’t even know what she wants from you yet. maybe she just wants to be your friend.”

you let out a sharp laugh. “right. because friends take each other to dinner and personally pick them up like after they’ve slept together like it’s some rom-com date.”

“maybe that’s just how she is,” yunjin offers. “she’s rich, isn’t she? rich people love doing unnecessary, dramatic shit.”

“of course,” ryujin nods as you glance at her from the mirror. “maybe this is just a regular weekday for her. maybe she does this for everyone.”

“oh, for sure,” giselle snickers. “karina probably has a roster of people she picks up for dinner every week. y/n’s just the wednesday slot.”

you glare at her. “you’re not helping.”

“sorry, sorry,” she says, holding up her hands with a grin. “but seriously. what if this isn’t a big deal for her? you’re the only one making it into one.”

“she has a boyfriend,” you remind them, voice tight. “even if i didn’t mean for this to happen, she’s the one pretending like it’s normal.”

“so let her,” yunjin shrugs. “if she wants to pretend, let her pretend. that’s her problem. but you can’t keep torturing yourself over something that wasn’t even your fault.”

“just…go to dinner,” ryujin sighs. “hear her out. see what she actually wants from you. if it’s weird, if it feels wrong, then end it.”

“but give her a chance,” giselle adds, nudging you. “just as a friend. nothing more.”

you stay quiet, rolling their words over in your mind. they’re right. you should just hear her out. it doesn’t have to be complicated.

and yet — you know it will be.

“fine,” you mumble, sinking deeper into your seat. “but if this goes south, i’m blaming all of you.”

“noted,” ryujin chuckles. “but let’s be real. it’s already gone south. you just need to figure out where it lands.”

you groan, shoving your face into your hands as the car finally pulls up to your dorm.

this is so not going to be okay.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

when you get back to the dorm, the weight of everything is still pressing against your chest, heavy and suffocating. you can barely think straight as you shut your bedroom door close, let alone process the fact that in an hour or two, karina will be outside, waiting to take you to dinner.

wrapping a cardigan around your shoulders, you head downstairs where everyone else is waiting.

you barely make it two steps into the lounge room before giselle speaks up, voice far too casual. “oh, by the way, she just texted me. she’s picking you up in like five minutes. she said to let her know when you’re ready.”

you stare at her. “she said five minutes?”

“yep,” she confirms, throwing herself onto the couch like this isn’t sending you into full-blown crisis mode. “plenty of time for you to overthink every life decision that led you here.”

“too late for that,” you mutter, dragging a hand down your face. you feel sick. “what the fuck am i even supposed to talk about with her? i don’t know anything about her besides the fact that she has a boyfriend.”

“that’s a good start,” yunjin says, scrolling through her phone. “you can lead with, ‘so, how’s your very committed, very public relationship going?’”

“great icebreaker,” ryujin nods, feigning approval with that shit-eating grin of hers. “really set the tone.”

you glare at them both before collapsing onto the couch beside giselle. “i’m serious. what if it’s awkward? what if we just sit there in silence for hours? what if she realises i’m the most boring person alive?”

the last question is unnecessary — you definitely don’t care if she thinks you’re dull.

“oh please,” giselle waves you off. “karina’s the most interesting person on campus. she could talk to a brick wall and make it seem engaging.”

“that’s not reassuring,” you groan.

“okay, okay,” she hums, thinking. “here’s a fun fact: her real name isn’t even karina. it’s yu jimin.”

you blink, turning towards her. “what?”

“yeah,” she grins, raising her eyebrows. “yu jimin.”

“why the name change?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“branding,” ryujin shrugs. “karina sounds cooler. more mysterious.”

“rich people love reinventing themselves,” yunjin chimes in with a chuckle. “‘oh, i was just a humble girl named jimin, but now i am karina, goddess of yonsei university.’”

“makes sense,” you mutter. “i should’ve known she was born for this level of campus mythology.”

“what else do you wanna know?” giselle smirks, stretching her arms behind her head. “we’re basically a walking biography.”

“does she have any siblings?”

“an older sister,” ryujin answers immediately. “which doesn’t make sense because she has only child energy.”

“big ‘i don’t share my toys’ energy,” yunjin nods, bouncing her leg so fast the sight of it made you anxious. “actually, it makes this whole situation very interesting, don’t you think?”

“i hate all of you,” you mumble, shoving your face into a pillow. “also, can you not bounce your leg at that speed? jesus.”

“y/n, you can be such an ass —“

“we love you too,” ryujin says cheerfully before sitting up suddenly, giving you a once-over. “by the way, your outfit? kind of great. where’d you get that cardigan?”

you glance down at the grey cardigan draped over your shoulders. “uh…i don’t remember?”

“damn,” she sighs. “i was gonna ask if i could steal it, but i already have too many clothes as it is.”

“you really do,” yunjin rolls her eyes, still bouncing her leg. “your wardrobe is basically a department store.”

“a very cool department store,” she corrects, grinning. “but yeah, you look nice, y/n. karina’s gonna lose her mind.”

“shut up,” you groan, but your ears burn anyway. before you can even process any more of this, there’s a knock at the door.

the room falls silent.

“oh my god,” yunjin whispers, eyes wide. “she’s here.”

you panic, not ready at all.

but giselle is already pulling you off the couch and pushing you toward the door, grinning like she’s sending you off to your doom. “go on, y/n. your princess awaits.”

“shut up,” you groan, swatting her arm before grabbing the doorknob. taking a deep breath, you brace yourself, then open the door. and you forget how to breathe.

karina stands there, leaning slightly against the doorframe, wearing an oversized leather jacket over a fitted top, her hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders. she looks ridiculously good, like she walked straight out of a magazine shoot and landed at your doorstep.

you open your mouth to say something, anything, but your brain completely malfunctions.

“hey,” she says smoothly, offering a small smile. “you look good.”

you…

your words are gone.

she blinks, tilting her head slightly, clearly amused by your sudden inability to function. “y/n?”

“hi,” you finally manage, your voice embarrassingly weak.

“wow,” ryujin mutters behind you. “strong start.”

“shut the fuck up,” you whisper violently before stepping outside, closing the door behind you before your friends can make this even worse.

she raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment, just tucks her hands into her jacket pockets. “ready to go?”

you nod.

because words?

yeah, they’re not happening today.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the car ride is so awkward you feel like you might actually combust.

her mercedes is too sleek, too quiet and too expensive. the kind of car that makes you painfully aware of every tiny movement you make. even just sitting in the passenger seat, you feel wrong — like you’re tainting the luxury with your presence.

your own little hyundai could never compare. it rattles when the engine starts, the air-conditioning works half the time and there are at least three green stains from ryujin’s grimace shakes on the seats that you refuse to talk about.

but this car?

this car smells like leather and something lavish — probably her perfume, that same ridiculous scent that’s been haunting you since that night. it clings to the air, faint but noticeable and the second it hits you, your brain malfunctions.

you sneak a glance at her, because how could you not?

her side profile is insane.

sharp jawline, high cheekbones, perfectly curled hair that falls effortlessly over her shoulders. the glow of the streetlights flickers across her face, highlighting the curve of her nose, the shape of her lips, the way her fingers tap idly against the steering wheel.

how is she even real?

and how the fuck did you end up here?

yu jimin — yonsei university’s most untouchable person, the one every person on campus either wants to be or be with — is sitting next to you, taking you to dinner, like this is something that happens in your life everyday.

it’s so stupid.

“you okay?” she asks, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road.

you physically jolt. “yeah!”

too loud, too fast.

her lips twitch, eyebrows furrowing, but she doesn’t comment on it. “you’re quiet.”

“just…processing,” you mutter, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “this whole thing is just…yeah.”

she hums. “what, nobody’s ever taken you to dinner before?”

meaning, you have never slept with anybody then take them to dinner afterwards. in fact, you haven’t even done it with anyone at all in over two years.

“not like this,” you say before you can stop yourself.

her eyebrow lifts slightly. “like this? meaning?”

you internally groan at how much of an idiot you’re being. “i mean…you know, with the — car and the…uh, just — you know.”

she’s fully smirking now and you want to throw yourself out of the moving vehicle. “are you always this articulate?”

“shut up,” you mutter, looking out the window, willing the universe to strike you down.

there’s a pause and then she says, “you don’t have to be nervous, you know.”

sinking deeper into the seat, you want to scream; not expecting her to call it out. you thought she would let you suffer in peace, allow you to pretend that this is totally normal and you’re completely fine.

“i’m not —” you start, but she cuts you off with a knowing look.

“y/n,” her voice is calm, gentle in a way you weren’t prepared for. “it’s just dinner.”

you swallow. “with you.”

“yes,” she nods, smiling. “with me.”

you grip your hands together, trying to keep your voice steady. “do you — do you take a lot of people out to dinner?”

karina raises an eyebrow. “would it make you feel better if i said yes?”

“no,” you say quickly, then blink. “i mean — wait, yes? actually, i don’t know.”

she laughs, properly this time, shaking her head. “you’re cute when you overthink, but seriously, i owe you one for the weekend.”

you short-circuit, the rest of her words not registering with you at all as warmth rushes to your cheeks.

“i —” you choke up, shaking your head. “shut up, no compliments.”

she still looks too amused for your liking, but she lets it go, switching lanes with ease. “so, how have the past few days been for you?”

she’s enjoying this. and you hate it.

you exhale, grateful for the change of topic. “same old. classes, work, dodging my roommates’ nonsense. nothing new.”

“dodging?” she raises an eyebrow. “i thought you were close with them.”

“i am,” you say. “which is exactly why i have to dodge them.”

she chuckles, the corners of her lips twitching like she understands exactly what you mean. “fair enough. how’s law treating you?”

“slow death by legal theory,” you mutter, making her laugh again. “what about you? what have you been up to?”

“hectic week,” she sighs. “midterms are coming up, so professors are losing their minds.”

“midterms,” you groan, shaking your head. “right. because life isn’t hard enough already.”

“tell me about it,” she muses. “and being an econ major means i get to spend my nights staring at graphs and pretending to care about financial models.”

you purse your lips. “wait, you’re an econ major?”

“why do you sound shocked?”

“i don’t know,” you shrug. “i just assumed….something else. business? art?”

“art?” she glances at you. “what about me says i’m an artist?”

“your whole ‘i don’t care about anything but i’m effortlessly cool’ vibe,” you say, making air quotes. “feels very tortured artist.”

“i’ll take that as a compliment,” she smiles at you.

before you can spiral any further, the car slows to a stop. you frown, glancing out the window, and then your stomach drops.

“karina,” you say slowly, staring at the dimly lit, ridiculously expensive-looking japanese restaurant in front of you. “this place is, well, looks like it’s going to cost…a car payment.”

“good thing i already have a car then,” she says smoothly, undoing her seatbelt.

“you could’ve taken me to, like, a normal restaurant place,” you argue, still stuck on how outrageously fancy this place is.

the way you just sounded so fucking stupid makes you cringe.

“this is a normal restaurant place,” she smirks, stepping out of the car. “for me.”

“that’s insane, yu jimin,” you grumble under your breath, following her inside.

she laughs at that, leading you through the entrance, where the inside is just as obnoxious as the exterior — dim ambient lighting, minimalist decor, waiters who look like they judge your financial status the second you walk in.

the kind of place that doesn’t bother listing prices on the menu because if you have to ask, you shouldn’t be here.

“you’re paying for this,” you whisper as you both are led a seat deeper into the restaurant; your stomach twisting into knots.

private rooms weren’t for casual dinners. they were for business deals, for secret meetings, for people who didn’t want to be seen.

and suddenly, this dinner — this whole situation…felt heavier.

“obviously,” she nods, completely unbothered as she looks back at you. “i invited you.”

this wasn’t just a meal between acquaintances.

there was so much more to this than she was letting on.

you hesitate for half a second before stepping inside, feeling like you were crossing some invisible line, stepping into something you couldn’t back out of.

the room is small, intimate, with soft lighting casting a warm glow over the wooden table. the air is thick with the scent of grilled fish and soy sauce, but it does nothing to calm your nerves.

karina moves with ease, like this is just another normal night for her. she shrugs off her leather jacket, draping it neatly over the chair beside her before settling in. she’s completely comfortable, unfazed by the weight in the air.

meanwhile, you feel like you can’t sit still.

“relax,” she says, smirking as she watches you hesitate by the door. “you’re acting like i brought you here to commit a crime.”

“didn’t you?” you mutter, finally sinking into your seat.

“if i did, you’d already be an accomplice,” she muses, casually picking up the menu.

you scoff, rolling your eyes, but it’s fake, a weak attempt to mask the very real panic thrumming under your skin.

this is out of your depth. you shake your head, still processing the fact that you’re here, sitting across from her, in a place where a single sushi roll probably costs the same as your entire grocery budget for the week.

“this is ridiculous,” you mutter, picking up the menu. “this entire restaurant is ridiculous.”

“what?” she tilts her head, watching you carefully. “you don’t like it?”

“i didn’t say that,” you huff. “i just think i could feed my entire dorm for the price of one dish here.”

she grins, resting her chin on her hand. “then i guess it’s a good thing i only brought you.”

your stomach flips.

the way she says it — casual, like it’s nothing, like she isn’t looking at you with that same unreadable expression that makes your pulse skyrocket — it’s too much.

you clear your throat, forcing yourself to focus on the menu. “so, what’s good here?”

she laughs once more, like she knows exactly what she just did to you. “i’ll order for us.”

you narrow your eyes. “is this an ‘i have impeccable taste’ thing again?”

“yes,” she says simply, not even trying to deny it.

you sigh, but you let her do it, leaning back against the plush booth as she orders effortlessly, she’s done this a million times before.

as the server leaves, she turns back to you, gaze steady. “so, y/n…tell me more about yourself.”

you blink, caught off guard. “what do you want to know?”

“everything,” she says easily, leaning forward slightly. “start talking.”

you hesitate, caught off guard by the genuine interest in her voice. you’re not used to people asking about you — not like this.

but for some reason, with karina sitting across from you, watching you closely, waiting…you kind of want to answer.

“how about you start first?”

and surprisingly, the conversation flows. despite the initial tension, talking to her is easy.

she’s quick-witted, sharp and knows how to keep a conversation moving. she talks about her family, her older sister — the golden child, already married, already working under their father. she talks about how her dad owns several businesses, how she’s expected to follow in their footsteps even though she has no idea if that’s what she actually wants.

“business was never my thing,” she admits, swirling her white wine idly. “but my dad doesn’t really care about that.”

“so what is your thing?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

she exhales, lowering her head slightly. “that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?”

you hum, nodding. “must be nice, though. having all these options, being able to choose what you want to do.”

she looks at you carefully, like she’s studying the way you said that. “and you don’t?”

you hesitate before shrugging. “i mean, i guess i could change paths, but law is what i’ve always known. it’s what makes sense.”

“but do you want it?”

you falter. “i think so.”

she doesn’t push, but something flickers in her gaze, like she’s filing that information away for later.

this is a date.

and the closest thing you’ve ever had to one was that awkward high school relationship, where you would sit in the same café after school, pretending to be interested in whatever yeji was talking about while secretly wishing you were at home reading instead.

but…this is different.

because no one has ever gone out of their way for you like this before. no one has ever picked you up in an expensive car, taken you to a restaurant that probably requires a bank loan just to order a side dish and actually wanted to know you.

and that’s what makes this worse.

because she is sitting across from you, watching you closely, her expression unreadable but undeniably focused, like she’s trying to understand you.

and you don’t know what to do with that.

she had a way of making even the most casual topics sound interesting, like she could take something as mundane as a daily routine and make it feel like a secret worth knowing.

somewhere between the first round of appetizers and her casual, smug decision to order for the both of you, you started to let your guard down.

“so you really just don’t go out, huh?” karina asks, leaning back slightly, her fingers playing idly with the rim of her glass.

“i go out,” you say, defensive. “just not to places like this.”

“where do you go then?”

you shrug. “work. classes. home.”

karina raises an eyebrow. “that’s it?”

“sometimes the convenience store,” you add. “for essentials.”

she snorts at that. “right. because instant ramen and energy drinks are essential.”

“they are when you’re studying law,” you say, pointing your chopsticks at her. “you wouldn’t get it, econ major.”

she hums, tilting her head. “actually, i do get it. i survive off caffeine and overpriced sandwiches.”

“the rich struggle too,” you deadpan. “who would’ve thought?”

“we all have our burdens,” she sighs dramatically, placing a hand over her chest. “mine just happen to involve foie gras and a trust fund.”

you let out a quiet laugh before taking a sip of your drink. “must be tough.”

“you have no idea,” she smirks, then rests her chin on her hand. “but really — why don’t you go out?”

you hesitate.

you don’t know how to explain it without making it sound like some kind of tragic backstory, because it’s not. you just…never saw the point.

you were never the type to crave social outings, never had the urge to throw yourself into clubs or attend every party like your life depended on it. even in high school, while other people were busy forming friendships and getting into messy relationships, you were just existing — watching from the sidelines, never feeling the need to participate.

and for the most part, you were fine with that.

until now.

until you’re sitting across from someone who had every reason to never notice you, and yet here she is, looking at you like she actually wants to know.

“i guess i just never saw the point,” you admit finally. “going out, meeting people — it’s never been my thing.”

karina watches you intensely for a moment before nodding slowly. “i get that.”

you raise an eyebrow. “do you?”

“yeah,” she hums. “contrary to popular belief, i’m not actually that social.”

“you’re literally the most popular person on campus.”

“popularity doesn’t mean i like people,” she muses, lips curling slightly. “it just means i tolerate them well.”

you huff out a laugh, shaking your head. “so, you’re saying you tolerate me?”

she smirks. “i think i can handle you.” your stomach flips. before you can even respond to that, karina leans forward slightly. “so, no dating history then?”

you nearly choke on your drink. “what?”

“you said you don’t go out much,” she shrugs. “so i’m assuming you haven’t dated much either.”

you scowl. “that’s a bold assumption.”

“am i wrong?”

you glare at her, but the way she’s looking at you— so smug, so sure of herself — makes you sigh. “no. not since high school.”

karina chuckles. “i knew it.”

you roll your eyes. “what, is that funny to you?”

“a little,” she admits, still wearing the smirk of hers. “just didn’t expect it.”

“why?” you challenge. “because you thought i was some kind of romance expert?”

“no,” she says, biting her lip. “i just thought someone would’ve tried harder to keep you.”

your heart stumbles over itself, your fingers tightening slightly around your chopsticks — you don’t know how to respond to that.

luckily…or unluckily, she shifts gears before you have to because suddenly, the warmth in the conversation diverts.

“you know, it’s kind of weird we’ve never crossed paths before,” she muses, setting her drink down. “giselle’s been my friend for years, and yet you and i? nothing. like we existed in separate universes.”

you chuckle. “maybe i was actively avoiding you.”

“probably,” she smirks. “but still. two years, same campus, same social circles. and yet this is the first time we’ve properly spoken to each other.”

you shrug, trying to ignore the weird tension creeping back in. “maybe the universe was trying to keep us apart.”

“and yet,” she begins, resting her chin in her palms. “here we are.”

you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling, and you hate that she makes you feel comfortable.

but then —

there’s a pause. a long, drawn-out silence where she just looks at you, her gaze steady, unreadable.

the warmth of the conversation dims slightly, something unspoken settling between you. and you know. you know what’s coming before she even says it.

“about that night,” she begins, carefully, like she’s testing the weight of each word. “do you remember?”

you knew this conversation was inevitable, but hearing it out loud sends a rush of panic through you.

and with fingers tightening slightly around your drinks, you admit: “bits and pieces.”

she nods slowly, her gaze dropping for a second, like she’s trying to figure out how to phrase what she wants to say next. “same.”

you don’t speak. you can’t.

“i don’t know what came over me,” she continues, voice quieter now. “but i remember looking at you, and your lips, and your stupidly attractive smile, and it just…happened.”

there it is.

the confirmation.

the final piece of proof that what happened between you wasn’t just a drunken mistake — it was a choice.

your breath catches in your throat, the world suddenly slowing down and shrinking right before your eyes.

karina leans back slightly, exhaling deeply. “i don’t regret it,” she confesses honestly. “but i know it was wrong.”

the words settle between you, thick and heavy. and suddenly, it all clicks. the private room. the secrecy.

“you took me to dinner so you could make sure i keep my mouth shut,” you start off, forcing a dry chuckle, trying to make it lighter than it feels. “i get it. don’t worry. the only people who know are our trusted friends and that’s where it’ll stay. he will never find out.”

“what?” she frowns, seemingly confused, then frowns more. “that’s not why you’re here.”

your stomach tightens. “then why am i here?”

she lets out a sigh; watching you closely, like she’s waiting for you to catch up. “because i don’t want that to be the end of it,” she answers, voice quieter, steadier.

your heart stops.

she leans closer, elbows resting on the table, fingers barely grazing the edge of her glass. “i don’t know what this is, but i know i don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen.”

your brain races, trying to process what she’s saying, trying to understand why she’s saying it.

“karina —”

“jimin,” she corrects softly.”

you swallow, your pulse pounding as you nod gently. “jimin.”

she smiles slightly at that, but her expression stays serious. “let’s continue this. whatever this is.”

your stomach twists. “but you —”

“i know,” she says, cutting you off gently. “i know…but i still want this.”

the weight of the conversation lingers between you, heavy and inescapable. you stare at her, speechless because deep down, for whatever reason, you do too.

you don’t know how to sit still; your fingers trace the edge of your drink absentmindedly, your mind is running at a pace you can’t keep up with. the air in the private room feels thick, charged with something you’re not ready to name, something you don’t know how to handle.

and across from you, she watches you with a gaze that’s too steady, too knowing, like she’s picking apart every hesitation, every moment of doubt playing out in your head.

you have spent your whole life avoiding this exact situation. you don’t do complicated. you keep your world small and your life structured.

and yet, here you are, sitting across from the girl who has single-handedly destroyed every rule you’ve set for yourself.

it terrifies you, but what terrifies you more is that you don’t want to leave.

“we barely know each other,” you finally say, your voice quieter than you mean for it to be, like you’re trying to convince yourself more than her. “this is ridiculous.”

she doesn’t react right away. she takes a slow sip of her drink, her lips pressing together briefly before she sets it down with a soft clink. she tilts her head slightly, considering you, her eyes dark and unreadable.

“that’s the point,” she says finally, leaning forward slightly. “i want to know you, only if you’ll let me.”

your breath catches in your throat.

there’s something about the way she says it — so simple, so assured, like the most obvious thing in the world has already been decided.

your heart beats unsteadily, an uneven rhythm that makes your chest feel tight. “why?”

she exhales, her fingers idly tracing the condensation on her glass. “because whatever i felt that night, i want more of it.”

you can’t look away from her.

“for the first time in a long time,” jimin continues, voice softer now, “i felt…seen. understood.”

the words settle between you, heavy with something unsaid. you know that feeling all too well, understand what it’s like to exist in a space where people only see the version of you they want to see — what it’s like to be looked at but never really known.

but you don’t let yourself dwell on it.

instead, you force yourself to focus on the one thing that keeps clawing at your brain, the one thing that refuses to let you ignore it. “what about jaewook?”

she sighs, leaning back against the booth, running a hand through her hair. “jaewook is…safe. stable.”

you frown slightly. “what do you mean?”

she nods, her gaze flickering to the side briefly before returning to you. “he pursued me for months before i finally said yes. he really tried. so i thought, why not?”

you don’t say anything.

“he’s stable,” she continues, her voice steady, but there’s something underneath it — something detached, like she’s explaining a business decision rather than a relationship. “he’s nice. he’s everything that should make sense.”

“but?” you prompt, even though you already know the answer.

“but it’s not what i expected,” she admits, breathing the words out slowly. “our relationship is all surface level. we look good together, people like seeing us together, but that’s it. there’s nothing deeper. nothing really…real about us.”

you hesitate before asking, “does he love you?”

jimin lets out a quiet, humourless laugh, almost like she’s too hurt to admit it. “i think he likes having me. i think i’m just…another thing that fits into his life. another box he gets to check off. perhaps, it’s his way of showing he loves me.”

you don’t know what to say to that.

“he’s only been to my dorm once,” she continues, her tone almost absent, like she’s only realising it as she says it out loud. “he doesn’t try to know my family, my friends. all he wants is to play football and have a pretty girlfriend.”

you frown, something about that making your chest ache in a way you weren’t expecting. “he doesn’t ask about your life?”

she shakes her head. “if you asked him right now what my major is, he’d probably say law. or communications.”

your eyebrows knit together. “but you’ve been together for over a year.”

“and he still doesn’t know me,” she says simply. “because he doesn’t want to.”

you can hear the quiet frustration in her voice, the resignation.

“so when you asked me all those questions at the party,” she adds, watching you closely, “it was the first time in a long time that i felt like someone actually wanted to know me.”

you inhale sharply, the weight of her words pressing against you.

because you remember now.

-

you hadn’t even wanted to be there.

ryujin and yunjin had thrown yet another one of their weekend parties and because you unfortunately lived with them, you had no choice but to exist in the middle of it. the plan was to just lock yourself in your room, maybe throw in some noise-cancelling headphones and wait it out, but that plan had gone to shit the second ryujin shoved a tequila shot in your hand and dared you to leave.

so you stayed. you drank. and somehow, somehow, you found yourself on the balcony, away from the suffocating crowd, just trying to catch your breath.

and that’s when she showed up.

you had never spoken to her before. you’ve seen her in passing, of course, because who hadn’t?

she was the kind of person people gravitated toward, even when she wasn’t doing anything.

but that night, when she stepped onto the balcony, she looked…different.

tired, almost.

“escaping too?” she had asked, leaning against the railing beside you.

you had hesitated before nodding, head spinning. “not really a party person.”

she hummed, taking a slow sip of whatever was in her cup. “me neither.”

“yeah, right,” you scoffed, glancing at her. “you’re karina.”

“and?”

“and people like you thrive in places like this.”

she turned to you then, eyes sharp, curious. “people like me?”

you shrugged. “popular people. you know, social butterflies. the kind that make parties their personality.”

she let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “see, that’s where you’re wrong. i hate parties. but people expect me to be here, so here i am.”

you frowned slightly, stumbling upon your words. “so you…i mean…do things just because people expect them from you?”

“sometimes,” she admitted, tilting her head. “don’t you?”

you opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

because, well.

you did.

your whole life had been about following a path, about making the right choices, about doing what was expected of you.

she studied you for a second before leaning in slightly, lowering her voice just enough to make it feel intimate. “so what do you actually want, then?”

you had paused. blinked.

then, you looked at her — really looked at her.

at the way her dark eyes flickered in the dim light, the way her lips curled slightly when she was genuinely interested, the way she was leaning in closer than necessary.

“i don’t know,” you had admitted. “maybe more tequila?”

and she had smiled.

“me neither, but i agree with you on that one.”

-

you exhale as your thoughts finally gather, trying to push past the feeling creeping up your spine. “but like i said, we barely know each other.”

“then let me,” she argues, putting a hand over hand — the contact sending jolts throughout your body. “i want to.”

you glance up, meeting her gaze, and fuck, she’s so pretty.

“i feel bad,” you admit, your voice tight. “this goes against everything i believe in.”

jimin tilts her head, studying you. “why?”

“i don’t date,” you say. “i don’t sneak around. i don’t…do this.”

“but you want to,” she prompts and it’s not a question. your pulse stutters. “tell me why you don’t date.”

you exhale, rubbing your temples. “i had one relationship in high school. yeji.”

she raises an eyebrow, arms crossing. “and?”

“and i was terrible at it,” you admit, groaning. “she wanted me to be affectionate, and i just wasn’t. i didn’t know how to be. i was emotionally unavailable and probably the worst girlfriend ever.”

she chuckles, shaking her head. “poor yeji.”

“yeah,” you snort, running your fingers through your hair. “we lasted six months before she realised i was a lost cause.”

“so you think you’re incapable of dating?”

“i think i’m bad at it,” you say honestly. “and i think this…us…is dangerous.”

she nods, letting your words settle before she speaks again. “then let me know when you’re ready.”

you blink, caught off guard. “what?”

“i’ll wait,” she says simply. “if you need time, i’ll give it to you.”

you stare at her, searching her face for any sign of dishonesty, any hint of a game, but there’s nothing.

she means it. you don’t know what to do with that. so you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “okay.”

and as she leans back, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips, you feel it — the inevitable pull, the thing dragging you toward her, despite everything.

because even though you should run, even though you should shut this down completely —

you already know. you’re going to fall into this…you never stood a chance.

the rest of dinner feels easier. somehow, after everything that had been said, after every unspoken tension that had settled between you, the weight of it all lifted.

you still didn’t know what this was.

but you knew, without a doubt, that you wanted to be sitting across from jimin.

for the first time in years, maybe ever, you weren’t rushing to leave, looking for an exit, counting the seconds until you could be alone again.

she told you more about her family, about the expectations placed on her shoulders from the moment she was old enough to understand what it meant to be a yu.

you told her about your life — about how your world had always been contained, structured. how you had never been the kind of person who sought things like this out, who chased after feelings you didn’t understand.

she listened and you listened back.

and by the time you were both walking toward her car, stepping back into the night, something inside you settled. you still weren’t sure what you were getting yourself into…but it shed some light.

there was no more overthinking. no more agonising over whether you should be here.

you were just here. with her.

the drive back to your dorm is quiet, but it’s not awkward. it’s a kind of shared silence that feels warm, comfortable, it doesn’t need to be filled.

the radio hums softly in the background, playing something slow and easy. you watch the city lights blur past through the window, the occasional streetlamp casting a glow over the dashboard, the soft hum of the car’s engine settling into the silence.

but then, jimin moves.

at first, it’s subtle. a shift, a slight adjustment.

and then you feel it.

her fingers brush against yours where your hand rests between you on the centre console. it’s not a mistake. it’s deliberate.

your breath stutters.

you barely have time to process the rush of warmth that spreads through your chest before she stays there, her fingertips resting lightly against your skin.

your pulse spikes, but you don’t pull away. instead, slowly, carefully, you turn your palm upward, letting your fingers graze hers — an invitation.

she takes it.

her hand finds yours, warm and certain, fingers intertwining with yours like they were always meant to.

you’ve never felt this way before — never felt something as simple as holding someone’s hand feel like a shift in your entire world.

not knowing what to do with it, you don’t say anything. you just squeeze her hand slightly and she squeezes it back.

“your fingers are so soft,” she mumbles out.

when you glance at her, her lips are pulled into a small, knowing smile, eyes still focused on the road, but there’s a softness to her expression, something unreadable flickering beneath the surface.

fuck. you swallow hard, your skin burning where she touches you and you don’t know what to do with any of it.

all you know is that you don’t want her to let go.

as your dorm comes into view, jimin sighs out, fingers tightening briefly around yours before she pulls into the driveway and turns off the engine.

“thank you for tonight,” she begins, her voice quieter now, softer. “i had a really good time with you, y/n.”

you glance at her, lips twitching as you rub circles on her skin. “the food was actually good despite the price tag.”

she scoffs. “you were expecting it to be bad?”

“i was expecting to resent how good it was,” you admit. “but i’ll never talk about the price again.”

“bold claim,” she smirks. “we’ll see how long that lasts.”

the teasing makes you grin, but then she speaks again, her tone shifting, turning serious. “really, y/n, thank you.”

you blink at her, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. “for what?”

jimin hesitates for just a second before exhaling. “for this. for giving me a chance.”

something in your chest tightens.

“if it makes you feel better,” she continues, her eyes flickering between yours, “i haven’t done this before either.”

your lips part slightly, surprised by the confession. “you haven’t?”

she shakes her head. “not like this.”

the words sit between you, and for a moment, neither of you say anything. you just look at each other.

it was all happening so fast.

the dim glow from the streetlights outside casts a soft, golden hue over her face, highlighting the curve of her jaw, the slope of her nose, the way her lips part slightly as she watches you.

she’s so pretty.

so ridiculously, unfairly beautiful, like she was carved from light itself, only made to be looked at.

your stomach clenches.

and then —

“can i kiss you?” her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, but it hits you like a strike of lightning.

all you can do is nod because you can’t even form words. your brain is not functioning.

the second your head moves, she’s already leaning in, already closing the space between you.

her lips press against yours, soft, warm and suddenly, it’s like every single nerve in your body lights up at once.

you inhale sharply, tilting your head gently, and she follows, deepening the kiss with a slow, unhurried ease, like she’s taking her time memorising you.

her hand lifts, fingers grazing your jaw and you swear you dissolve into her.

she tastes like the remnants of her drink, the faintest hint of citrus and something undeniably her, something that makes your head spin.

you have never been kissed like this before. it’s not rushed, not careless. it’s intentional.

it’s like she’s trying to tell you something without saying a word.

and when she pulls away — just slightly, just enough for you to breathe — you don’t even think before you whisper, “do you want to come in?”

she freezes; you watch as her eyes flicker between yours, widening just slightly because she wasn’t expecting you to ask, thrown off for the first time tonight.

you don’t know where the boldness came from. maybe it was the way she kissed you, the way her fingers felt against your skin, the way her lips still tingle against yours. but you don’t regret asking.

she swallows, her gaze flickering toward the dorm, then back at you.

she nods — the beginning of a dangerous game.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Ningning was eager to live her life to the fullest. She insisted on attending every social gathering, university event, and disgusting party in questionable places located hours away from your hometown.

Like all the others who thrived on such frivolous things, she was stupid; Naive, sinful, and so utterly dumb, eager to fill a space in her chest with a temporary thrill that would never provide the solution she truly needed.

It was your duty to guide her towards a clearer sense of mind. As her childhood friend and community sister, you'd never have her get into those sketchy situations alone.

You were always there, making sure her drunken self went home safely and lecturing Ningning on how stupid this rebellious, promiscuous phase of hers was.

If only she were able to see past her desperate attempts to get attention and validation. Yizhuo’s pleas for help were pathetic, utterly shameful.

She needed to get over the need of hers quickly; your patience was wearing thin— you wouldn't put up with her tantrums much longer.

Unfortunately, you feared such a sense of consciousness was only acquired through time and experience. Someday, she'd be mature enough to be embarrassed about such a dark era.

Meanwhile, you'd join Ningning in such awful places to make sure she wasn't being too reckless. Always disapproving, judgemental, and superior, but there for her nonetheless.

There was very little you wouldn't do for your cousin, within your own beliefs and limitations. She knew that. The two of you had practically shared the same womb, after all, being best friends ever since birth in the small, tight-knit community you've spent your life in.

Like every other weekend, you found yourself accompanying Ningning to another house party, located in the outskirts of town. 

The house was pretty decent, even though its neighborhood was dangerous and not at all aesthetically pleasing to look at.

Low-quality music blasted everywhere, vibrations echoing through your chest as you frown at the huge music speaker in the center of the house’s open area. Most people hung around the pool, swimming, playing, dancing, or being obnoxiously loud like this was the peak of their lives.

Still, you'd rather look at their ugly faces than at the couples who made sure to swallow each other in public so everyone would witness.

They were all superficial, pitiful people who grossed you out.

“Hi, Y/n!” Ningning screamed, bumping into you. Although she was small and light, catching you by surprise made holding her by the shoulders difficult, so she wouldn't fall face off on the ground. Not that she realized, still jumping up and down excitedly. “Are you drunk?”

Cheap liquor didn't impress you. If only, the drink you held on your hands tasted like cleaning products, making it a good effort to gulp down your throat.

“No.” You frowned at your second cup of the night, unimpressed. “This thing tastes like shit.”

“Cool! I'm not drunk either. I'm totally cool.” Her movements were almost theatrical, explaining herself even though you didn't ask. Pointing at a random girl behind her, Ning added. “I'm going to be here, with… her. Okay? Where will you be?”

“Around.” Ningning's laughing fit grew stronger as she realized she had forgotten her poor hookup’s name, oblivious to how you didn't join her on the inside joke. “Stay where I can see you.”

Ningning's flushed face glowed even with the random lighting. An angelical being, she is— with hazy eyes, plump lips, and an easy smile.

Ningning shines like a beacon, claiming attention almost as much as she attracts it.

Pure people, like you and her, shouldn't attend such dirty, disgusting places.

Yizhuo's clumsy hands gathered your cup and made sure to get it empty it in one go, shivering as the liquid burned down her throat.

If not for you, she would get it from someone else, so you allowed it without further complaints.

Still icked from the awful taste, she smirked, squeezing your arm before walking away. “Yes, Mom.”

Yizhuo was so high on audacity, subtly mocking you as if she wasn't the pathetic one.

Disregarding the older girl, you rolled your eyes, searching for a place to wait until she was done fucking around so you'll finally go home.

Patience has never been your main virtue. You were rotten of soul— a hater in its true sense.

How were you supposed to act any different, when everyone was so annoying all the time?

Other than loud, drunken idiots, there was only one other thing you despised even more: smokers. The smell of nicotine invaded your nostrils and did nothing but irritate your lungs and impregnate your hair, making sure you carried such an awful smell for many hours further.

Naturally, the couch area was infested by them, like the plague. You ended up taking a seat anyway; being trapped in a room full of stoners would only add to the endless things that have been grossing you out ever since you arrived.

There wasn't much to do. You couldn't text anyone— you and your friends were still under a rigorous curfew despite being of age; working and attending university for years, now.

They were all asleep, safe and comfortable in the comfort of their homes. With Ningning lost in her carnal desires, you're left bored and irritated, looking around and counting the seconds until you'd be home.

“Do you want me to turn off the AC?” A gravelly, warm voice breathed in your ear, definitely too close to your liking. The girl watching you with stoned eyes was undeniably pretty, with orange—pinkish? Hair and big eyes.

Too bad she was also one of the rotten ones, resting a blunt in her hands like all the others.

You turned to her, leaning on the sofa to get some distance from her. “Excuse me?”

“Do you want me to turn off the AC, angel?” She repeated herself so casually, unbothered by your crossed arms, rigid posture, and disgusted pout. Instead, she pointed at your outfit. “You seem cold.”

Ningning was always big on losing stuff after getting drunk, so it was no surprise when she launched her jacket at you, the moment she fetched herself something to drink.

You didn't mind; you were often colder than most, so the extra layer was a warm welcome on the breezy night.

Instead, you wrapped your jacket around yourself, rolling your eyes to suppress a shiver. The stranger, splashed occupying two seats on the biggest cushion, tilted her head before inhaling more smoke.

Certainly studying, judging you with a faint smirk and critical, obnoxious eyes who observed your movements from head to toe.

You didn't wish to be perceived by any of the losers present, let alone this one.

“I'm good, thanks.” You muttered, sinking further onto your seat as some other guy squeezed his way onto the packed couch.

At least she was decent enough not to blow smoke onto your face, hitting her blunt to the other side instead, before adding, “Aeri.”

"What?"

“You said 'thanks'.” She explained, unfazed by the sharpness in your voice. Instead, Aeri spoke slowly, perhaps because of the substance's effects, but it annoyed you nonetheless. “Usually, the name of the person you're thanking comes right after the thanks. So you'd say: ‘Thanks, Aeri.”

Unlike her, you weren't stupid; there was no need for her to explain things to you like a child. Did she not realize you weren't looking for a conversation?

It wasn't hard to miss, with the way you kept looking elsewhere and humming instead of paying her any attention.

It's not like she did anything to deserve it, anyway.

Aeri hummed, leaning back again to whisper, “And what would your name be, little angel?”

Going out with a white baby T-shirt and a white skirt had certainly been a choice. 

Ningning rang on your doorbell just as you were getting ready for a date, urging you out of the house before you had even canceled it. While it was perfect for a walk around in the movies, it made you stand out too much in the darkened place.

The quicker you answered, the quicker she'd leave you away. Mindlessly, you muttered. “Yizhuo.”

Ningning was most certainly out there giving so much of herself around. She wouldn't mind having her surname borrowed for a few hours.

There was no way you were sharing any personal information with Aeri, whose jawline alone could cut half of the curious eavesdroppers' ears off. 

You've been warned about people like her: demons of the night, who'd obsess over something until it was ruined. Rotten, influential people who sponsored illegal fights, drugs, and drifts to make money and incite chaos around.

Based on the way she held herself and how people acted around her, it was clear that Aeri was at least something related to that.

It was hard to not stumble upon any of them, in the places Ningning insisted on hanging around.

She lifted her brows. “Surname basis?”

“Oh, so you do have a few neurons left, after all.” You smirked back, crossing your arms over your chest.

Aeri was unbothered by your lack of enthusiasm. She merely shrugged, too high on dopamine to mind. Instead, she offered you her joint.

You pushed her arm away, rolling your eyes and expecting her to be at the very least irritated enough to talk to anyone else instead. 

Not once did her devilish smoke cloud cease, surrounding her confident frame in an ethereal, ghostly aura. She didn't seem real.

And from the way she kept staring, you figured neither did you.

“Do you think you're superior, Yizhuo?” She blew the steam away, talking with a low, husky tone that made you shiver. No matter how much you shrinked under the cramped couch, she was still too close to your liking. “This little stuck-up act of yours will get you in trouble someday, angel...”

At least she gave good advice. Being lectured to keep your thoughts to yourself was part of your routine.

Not that you could help it: you've always been too expressive, especially when something was pissing you off.

And being trapped at a crappy place, with pathetic people for at least another two hours was surely something.

You should retreat. Aeri reeked of trouble— defying her would attune her curiosity, something you were not looking forward to. Act like a smart ass surely wouldn't make her leave you alone.

Unfortunately, you were too stubborn to cower. Eyeing her frazzled, faded strawberry-blonde hair, you muttered, “The only thing I think is that you are in desperate need of a hairdresser, Aeri."

Aeri laughed, hard and genuinely, attracting even more attention as you squirmed under your seat, fighting a smirk yourself. Despite claiming to read people easily, this girl's reactions were always the opposite you'd anticipated.

At first glance, you thought of her as someone obnoxious, bored, and easily irritated. Instead, you stared at a smooth-talking, chill girl who smiled at you like she'd won the jackpot.

If anything, she looked entertained. And you weren’t one for spectacles.

Snatching a new joint from a random person’s hands, Aeri turned to you again. “Try it, then.”

“I don't do things of the impure. Those are reserved for rotten, pathetic people.” You scrunched your nose at the burnt smell hanging around, even though the blunt in Aeri’s fingers hadn’t been lit up. “Nor do I need to prove you anything. I'll pass.”

Time seemed to pass faster, the longer you talked to the mysterious girl. Only for that, you continued. And perhaps also because her big, blue eyes were as alluring as they were disturbing.

She definitely needed better contacts.

Aeri's presence alone was infuriating. The sickening scent of her perfume mixed with nicotine, weed, and alcohol made you dizzy, dripping with annoyance, disgust, and curiosity.

“Oh, but you do.” She spoke slowly, deliberately. No louder than a murmur, forcing you to pay extra attention to grasp her words amidst the noisy place. “You love to prove others wrong, don't you?It's certainly an accomplishment, being so right all the time.” Lighting it up, she shrugged, “If you’re as superior as your little stuck-up ass claims to be, it won't do anything anyway. Might as well just take it.”

This stupid, self-centered girl thought she had you all figured out. If there was anyone that certain and perceptive about others, it was you: not Aeri, not anyone else.

Still, her words stung on your pride. Maybe you should allow yourself to be as shallow as others for a moment. 

Just to rip that easygoing smirk off from the girl’s face, nothing else.

Your hands took the blunt from hers without any care, welcoming the atrocious, vile substances into your lungs as you inhaled the smoke. It was awful— even worse than you imagined.

Why did people even do this? Idiots, all of them. The smoke irritates your throat, making it hard not to cough uncontrollably.

Fuck her, for not missing even a blink of yours. You took another puff, just so to prove her stupidity even further.

Aeri grunted, clearly pleased. One of her hands grabbed the back of your neck as the other gently retrieved the joint from between your fingers. “Stunning. And it didn't even hurt, right?” She joked, running her short nails against your jaw. “You’re good at following orders, Yizhuo. How do you feel?”

Bullshit. It did hurt, as the smoke burnt down your throat and infiltrated your nostrils. Not that you felt much different. Maybe a bit lightheaded, but not slow or stupid like the people around you.

This time, you didn't cower. You simply smiled back at her, answering her with a fake, surprised voice, “Like I've been blessed with the grand knowledge of the universe.” Your smile dropped. “There is nothing to be felt, Aeri.”

She liked the way you pronounced her name. It was harsh, fast, impatient. Were it anyone else, she'd have shown them what it meant to disrespect her.

But your little pout was so cute, as was the way you wandered around the party in such a cute outfit, shining like a beacon and so clearly out of place. 

So pretty, even when you stared at everyone like they were nothing but dust under your shoe, running your hands on your hair as if daring anyone to come close and spare you a word.

Aeri wanted to unravel you, curious to find out what someone so composed and haughty was doing in her place.

Not that it mattered to you. Everything you wished was to let Aeri know how pathetic she was, which you've done— you won the nonexistent competition, and there was nothing else to prove.

It takes more than something as horrible to get your pure, angelical soul cracked like those idiots. 

Doesn't matter how many times Aeri laughs at your petty answers, instead of being offended. 

You were superior, even when ruining yourself just like they do just to prove a point.

“Do this: just inhale deeply.” She commanded, after taking a deep hit herself. You didn't know why you obeyed without even questioning. Aeri then blew smoke right into your face, leaving you no choice but to breathe in all of her. “Just like that, good girl.”

The world felt… light. Without the rational part of your brain working relentlessly, things had a different perspective, different meaning. What was the need of repressing yourself so much?

Your brain was fuzzy, making it hard to reason with your morals. They seemed so stupid, now. And you were so sensitive, both physically and emotionally; it felt wonderful.

For a moment, Ningning didn't seem like such a pathetic girl, but more like someone trying to have a bit of fun out of your controlling, repelling community.

And it was fun indeed; much better than dressing a certain way, acting as expected, and thinking of yourself as someone superior to others simply because you fit in perfectly among your friends and superiors.

Maybe you were just as shallow as others. It didn’t matter; for now, there wasn't anyone known to you around. 

Certainly, you were allowed to let go of everything for a night, a few hours. No one had to know. You certainly wouldn't tell.

And you'd only be intoxicated for so long— which was just the perfect excuse.

Your eyes dropped to Aeri's mouth, so pink and inviting. Would she taste like the cigarettes she insisted on smoking? Or like the mint scent impregnated on her skin?

“Aeri?” You murmured, failing to realize your slowed speech. The warnings in your head were promptly ignored as you leaned in to kiss her. Aeri backed away just enough for your lips not to touch, toying with you with a bright smile. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed her tank top's collar, making sure she wouldn't run away, “You look much hotter with that fucking mouth of yours shut.”

It felt hard to process thoughts or proper orders. Your body was sensitive, and Aeri made sure you felt every bit of her touch.

Even though you were the one who made the first move, she dominated the kiss, making sure to explore every corner of your mouth as her hand grabbed the back of your neck, bringing you even closer.

“Beautiful,” She praised, biting your lower lip as she urged you to her lap. Aeri wanted nothing more but to ravish, unravel you. The girl grabbed your thighs, squeezing and carving her nails as you moaned in her mouth, muffled by the girl’s lips. “Beautiful angel. I can't wait to fucking ruin you.”

Every sensation on your body was intensified, and she took some good advantage of it. 

You felt on fire, burning with such intensity you were sure to explode soon. Thankfully, Aeri didn’t treat you softly by any means.

This girl, this fucking menace was so addicting you couldn't stop kissing her.

You cupped her face, you rocked onto her thigh, urging her fleeting hands to grow closer to the place you ached for. Just a little more to the side…

It would've been wise not to throw yourself all over Aeri in the middle of a crowded living room. However, your self respect had vanished the moment you took that joint from her lips.

Like a spell, she was all you could think of: her lean fingers, her skilled mouth, and all the filthy ways you wanted her to use you.

Aeri sucked on your neck, cupping your ass as she urged you up and pushed your panties to the sides.

Instead of diving into your dripping, aching cunt, she stopped her fingers and laughed at your desperate squirming.

“Still feeling superior now, Y/n? Moaning like a bitch in front of so many people before I even touch you.” She murmured, delighted as she brushed her knuckles against your pussy.

At least your skirt still covered enough, despite your movements leaving little to the imagination. Not that you cared anyway.

Your brain was so fuzzy, the only thing you could think of was Aeri— her touches, your release. Nothing else mattered.

Although her provocation left you pissed enough to stare at her, still moving shamelessly, desperately. “Fuck you, Aeri.”

She laughed so freely that those who were trying hard to not look at the obscenity unraveling couldn’t help but stare, now.

“Oh, Yizhuo.” She smacked her lips, pressing a kiss surprisingly gently on one of your shoulders. “Say it again.”

Pervert.

Two of her fingers invaded your entrance before you could think of a witty response, parting inside easily given how wet you were.

Lustful moans escaped your lips as you started riding her fingers, allowing Aeri to thrust on your cunt at a hard, fast pace.

“Aeri…” You whined, as her free hand guided your hips up so you'd align with her finger’s movements movements without further effort. She was giving you so much, and it felt so good to be full. But you were greedy; always one to yearn. “More, please. M-more.”

“Fuck, angel,” She moaned, looking down at where her fingers worked on your sex as if she could see through your clothes. The girl grabbed your neck for a kiss, again. Messy, wet and so desperate you run out of air much earlier than usual as her fingers scissored inside your pussy. “You’re so wet. I can feel you clenching all over your fingers. Can't wait to ruin you even more.”

You've never felt like this before. So shameless, humiliated by the desire of reaching your peak.

You ached everywhere— extra sensitive, begging to be used.

Each of Aeri's thrusts on your cunt sent electric shocks through your entire body, pressing onto your lower abdomen to create a familiar, tingly sensation that insisted on growing even more desperate as seconds went by.

Sensing, your desperation, Aeri's fingers fastened their pace, pressing even harder as you tried hard not to scream.

All it took was a simple flicker of her thumb on your clit and your orgasm hit, white dots dancing in your vision as your entire body trembled with strong waves of pleasure.

It felt like your 5th orgasm of the night— a stretch so good you felt like you were going to explode. Nothing else mattered: your sweet release had finally arrived.

Aeri hummed, clearly pleased with herself as she watched you calm down. Her wrist was soaked with your juices, and you couldn't bring yourself to look at the mess you've done with the place, growing red with embarrassment.

Ningning's voice beat you to starting an awkward talk with the pink-haired girl, coming high-pitched from behind your trembling frame. “Y/n?”

You closed your eyes in hopes she'd disappear.

When it was clear her presence was still hovering over you, you turned around, asserted by Aeri’s strong grip on your thigh.

She held you close since your legs were still wobbly. “Hello, Ningning. Are you done?”

“Yeah…” She said, alternating her worried stare between Aeri, who sat as if nothing had ever happened, and yourself—gripping onto her shoulder with dear life so you wouldn't fall on the ground. “Do you need help?”

“Why would I need help?” You shot, rolling your eyes in annoyance while Aeri hissed at your nails, digging harshly into her skin. “Stay put.”

With wide eyes, Ningning took a step to reach for you, but you waved her away. There wasn't any chance you'd let her touch your sweaty, burning skin.

From the way she gulped, you feared how disheveled you must look. With ruined makeup, tangled hair, and oh, your clothes…

Your pristine, perfect image would never be the same in her eyes.

In all her life, Yizhuo had not once seen a single strand of your hair out of place. It was only natural  she’d stare like you've been possessed.

Which you obviously were. Possessed by weed, alcohol, and the devilish girl that stood right next to you.

Aeri had the nerve to smile like her fingers hadn’t been up in your cunt moments prior, humid and still caressing your inner thigh. “So you do have a name, Y/n. A pretty one, might I add. Just as angelical as yourself.”

It took everything on you to not punch her witty face. Instead, you ignored her entirely, sighing once, twice until you were no longer seeing red and your legs were able to function again.

“Well,” You clicked your tongue, distancing yourself from her while trying to fix up your clothes. “Those substances may have altered my sense of mind and made me do insane things based on lust. I was possessed by the evil spirit of weed, obviously. Still, my most insane self was saner than all of you losers around. I've won, of course.”

“Obviously.” Aeri didn't even skip a beat before confirming, not bothering to sound convincing at all. “You're right, my angel.”

Proud to have your point proven, you waved Aeri goodbye and promptly turned around, guiding Ning towards the exit from a safe distance. She didn't matter anymore.

Everything was gone— over like it had never happened.

Now, you just had to get rid of the intoxicating, impure substances that clogged your pores and clouded your sanity before sneaking back home.

—

“Are you sure you're okay?” Ningning asked, eyeing you for the nth time as you tried not to fall asleep on the table. She was pissing you off even more than usual, with the amount of questions she blurted.

As if you owed her any explanations.

Thankfully, you had an enormous hamburger and an extra big set of fries to entertain yourself with. Forcing Ningning to stop at the nearest fast food in your neighborhood before sneaking back home had been your most brilliant idea in ages.

You deserved the treat— for taking care of your cousin, for being superior to everyone in that party by staying perfectly fine and pure even after a few hits of their disgusting blunts… And simply because you were a pretty girl, too.

"I am 100% sure, Yizhuo.” You answered, with a big yawn as you stretched your arms to shake yourself awake. “Would you stop hovering around? It's fucking annoying. Have I ever asked for a report on what you do with those random girls you get lost with at every fucking party we go to? Do I ask what you've drank before holding your fucking hair while you throw up in the bushes? Get a fucking grip and stop being up in my a—”

“Okay!” She cut you off, looking around with an exasperated tone to check if anyone had listened to your rant. So dramatic; you'd barely whispered. “I was just curious, damn! I guess you really are fine, if you're back to bitching around like always.”

You paid her no attention, too busy drowning your food in ketchup to care. “Wonderful! Now, mind your fucking business.” Eyeing her half-eaten fries, you added, “Will you finish those, by the way?”